Crisis
by Jojo6
Summary: Sam's bad year gets the better of her and Maybourne's not helping much. Finished *g*. Thanks everyone!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 is an original MGM, Greenburg/Anderson, Gekko, Top Secret, Kawoosh! production. Any material relating to Stargate SG-1 is for entertainment only, and is in no way meant as an infringement on copyrights. In other words, I own nadda. 

Spoilers: Beneath the Surface 

PG at the moment. 

A/N: Right, this is the prologue or something. I know where I'm going with this - there is a definite plot - and I have written the next 3 chapters. Things may change as I go along but I wanted to put something up to see how you guys felt about it. 

_Italicised_ chunks is all flashbacks, mostly episode additions, sometimes related to the chapter, sometimes just bits I wanted to use to fill space. Kidding. 

Sam's age: in 'The Entity', Sam's DOB was listed on the computer as 29/12/68. So, since this is set when she is just 32, that would make this end of Season Four or the very beginning of Season Five. 

Though, interestingly, in Ascension, Orlin makes her an emerald, saying he read up on birth stones and this was hers. That, however, would put her birthday in May. Turquoise is the stone for December (I should know). Huh. Nobody's perfect, I suppose. 

* 

* 

* 

_'' How do you feel?''_

_She finally looked up from her lap, where she'd been firmly staring since he'd 'dropped by', unable to find the strength in herself to look at him as they talked 2IC to CO. '' What?''_

_'' How do you feel?''_

_She couldn't believe he was asking her that. Standing there, so cold and hard, hands in his pockets like nothing had changed, like the past couple of weeks were of no consequence to him whatsoever. There was enough of Her left for her to respond honestly, though, to Him, '' Like someone's just turned around and told me I'm not real, of course. How do you feel?''_

_He hovered, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. For a long moment, she thought he wasn't going to say anything at all. That he was just stand there like the emotionless bastard he was. Then he broke up her thoughts with a very quiet, hurt statement, '' Like my last chance of happiness has been taken away from me.''_

_Her voice was a brittle whisper, '' Oh God,'' and quietly, ever so quietly, her thoughts added, 'Jonah'_. 

_Inside, she crumpled like paper. Her heart absorbed the words, but it also absorbed the truth in them, the unspoken emotions he had to be hiding. He wasn't an emotionless bastard, no matter how hard sometimes she tried to convince herself he was. It was easier to believe he felt nothing, easier to think that if he could deal with it, then so could she. But both him and Him had hid their feelings, a characteristic defence weapon that probably hadn't existed twenty years ago but was an intricate part of his shell now. _

_For her, right now, only military spine and the years of her father's accidental influence were holding her upright. _

_He made a bitter face, half turned in the doorway and carefully shuttered back his expression to his usual dark, somehow threatening facade. '' Guess I'll see you later, right?''_

_'' At the briefing. Sure.''_

_He made to leave, then stopped, stepped back into the room, his fingers tapping on the door jamb. '' Sit next to me?''_

* 

Of course, from then onwards, whenever she sat next to him - and more often than not, she did - Sam always remembered that conversation, the most awkward, painful, heartbreaking conversation she'd ever had with him. She wondered if he did, if he remembered in detail how he'd felt that day, that afternoon after the truth was revealed. If he remembered the nuances, the way Janet had tried to look each of them in the eye as she'd completed their physicals, of the strange compulsion to keep those ugly orange suits, to cling to them. 

Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he'd buried it, maybe he'd repressed it. Maybe it had joined the long litany of things that he Just. Didn't. Think. About. Certainly it was never spoken of again. 

God knew there were millions of things they didn't speak of. _Side arms, force fields, alien women, alien men, little touches, smiles, the occasional, accidental, oh-so-bittersweet moments of shared understanding. _

_This is what we have to do, this is the way its going to be. Remember who we are._

For the moment, Sam pretended not to know why it was now, in this particular briefing, that she was revisiting old and painful memories. Most days she refused to think of them, used work to distract herself, an age old Carter tradition of simply filling her mind with everything else, important or not, so she didn't have to focus on the pain. 

Today, it was different. Today, sitting next to him, listening to the General talk, Sam wasn't listening. An outsider would have probably thought that the tall, blonde woman in the blue SGC Air Force uniform was focussing intently on her General's words, nodding at the pertinent places, smiling when he joked, when he smiled. Agreeing, disagreeing, abstaining. But she wasn't doing any of those things. Not today. Today she was just too damn tired to be a Major in the USAF. 

And now, though it hurt, if she was honest, and, at least in her head she could be honest, she knew what had happened to spur on this moment of self clarity. It was a cliché. She knew that. A tacky, stupid reason to suddenly reassess the losses and regrets in her life. 

On her answer machine this morning she'd found a message, a message from the night before that she'd missed, coming in from work too late and being too tired to listen to whatever the machine had to say. Besides, usually no one called her. Seeing the blinking light just as she was about to leave at six that morning had been a surprise. She'd already spoken to Daniel about what colour they'd be wearing to work that day - what could it possibly be? Daniel was always the one who called her, once in a blue moon Teal'c would if Daniel was unavailable (unconscious/missing/presumed dead), but mostly it was Daniel. Not Colonel O'Neill, for obvious reasons. And she, in turn, never called him. There was no one else she knew of who would have any reason to contact her. 

She'd reached over, pressed the button. 

_Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you_, _Happy Birthday dear Samantha, Happy Birthday to you!_

In the background, an argument had broken out between the children and the adults. She was Auntie Sam to her niece and nephew, Sam to her sister-in-law but always Samantha to her brother, had been since she was very small. His lower timbre voice had naturally overtaken theirs in the traditional, out of tune birthday song and the children were aggrieved. 

_Daddy you sounded so cross with her. _

_Mark, really, you promised._

Mark had been laughing as he'd said, '' Never mind them, Samantha. Happy Birthday. Present should arrive on the day itself but you know how it is. We missed you this Christmas. Hope Dad's remembered, but don't worry if he hasn't. He doesn't even know his own middle name.'' 

She was, of course, horrified that she'd forgotten her own birthday. It had seemed outright ridiculous, awful, beyond belief. But, frankly, that had happened a lot in the last five years. She didn't celebrate birthdays anyway, not since she'd been in her twenties when they'd been more of an occasion to throw everything aside and go out until the small hours. Besides, only last week she'd helped save the world again and turning thirty-two was very little in comparison. 

Since she'd forgotten, she'd not been surprised that they'd forgotten. Her friends, supposedly, Daniel, Teal'c, the Colonel, Janet, even Hammond, had no surprise party prepared for her, no big joke to tease her about for years to come. They just forgot. Not terrible. Yes, she did know all their birthdays (even Teal'c's) off by heart, but that was the type of person she was. They didn't mean to forget, after all. They all had their own worries and problems. 

No matter how she tried to rationalise it, the truth remained: she was hurt. 

She was hurt. She wasn't going to kid herself about that. She was hurt. It was easy to admit, less easy to say, but she didn't want that. Sam didn't want their sudden, horrified pity, guilt, whatever. She didn't want to tell them and have Daniel beg her forgiveness, for Teal'c to act confused over the Tauri's prevalence for celebrating what was another day of the year, for Janet to gasp and whisper an apology. She didn't want to see the flash of pain in the Colonel's eyes. A birthday was supposed to be celebrated by those closest to you, and, apparently, Sam didn't have anyone close to her anymore. 

In an effort to be positive and, let's face it, Samantha Carter was Miss Positive, she told herself it was so sweet of Mark and his family to have remembered. After all, they'd only become friends again in the past two years and were working up to their old brother-sister relationship. He'd simply sent a card the previous year but this year... a full out singing marathon on her answer machine. 

It was an awkward date to have a birthday on, anyway. Just after Christmas, just before New Year's. Everyone was busy. It wasn't the silly season for nothing. The past few months hadn't exactly been her best either. 

The fact that they'd remembered last year was no reason to think they'd remember this year. The fact that last year he'd got her a beautiful, slender little gold bracelet was no reason to think he'd get her anything this year. This year, things were different. This year, the secret that she and Colonel O'Neill had privately cherished had slipped out. There would be no more comfortable, delicious conversations alone in tents off-world. No more flirting in her lab, silly jokes aimed to make her smile. 

'' Major?'' 

Sam snapped out of her internal thoughts, and an icy cold shudder ran through her body. She reached up to rub the top of her arms. '' Sir?'' 

General Hammond smiled, as did the rest of the table, at her obvious inattention. '' I was just thanking SG-1 for working over the Christmas period and hoped that a week's downtime over New Years would be sufficient reparation.'' 

'' Oh. Sure. Thank you, sir.'' She blinked, shook off the funny feeling she was getting, and smiled around the table. 

Daniel was looking at her intently, his pale blue eyes concerned. '' Are you all right, Sam?'' 

She nodded firmly. '' Yeah. I'm fine.'' 

Now they were all looking at her. 

She rolled her eyes. '' I'm fine, guys, sirs,'' she tacked on at the end, giving them all a more energetic smile. 

Easily reassured, they all turned back to Hammond. 

A weeks downtime over New Years. No doubt there would be the same party at O'Malleys, which she couldn't attend, banned as she was from that particular branch. Daniel was going to Abydos to visit Share's family, and, she supposed, his. Teal'c was naturally going to see his son and wife. Colonel O'Neill? She didn't know and obviously wasn't going to ask. Way too personal. No one had asked her what she was doing: either they all assumed (correctly) that she'd be spending her downtime on base or she'd be visiting her limited close family. 

Her father hadn't been in contact in months which was both worrying and pleasing. Worrying, in case he was on some dangerous mission or missing, pleasing because he was doing something he'd always enjoyed - throwing himself at death's door and scrambling back out alive. Alive. Alive, thanks to a parasite, a snake, a Goa'uld with a conscience. 

'' Sam? Sam?'' Daniel laughed as she finally looked up. Both he, Teal'c and Colonel O'Neill were watching her curiously. Hammond had left - oops, she missed the end of year dismissal. 

Ah well, there would always be next year. And the year after that. In front of her, all Sam could see was the SGC. An endless stretch of working ridiculous hours, protecting her world with limited recognition, and going home to an empty house and no messages on her answer machine. 

_Grow up, Sam. Grow up. This is important. This is more than you. This is bigger than you will ever be. _

'' Sorry,'' she murmured, grabbing her things - her file and some odd bits of papers she'd happened to be carrying about - and standing up. 

Daniel caught up with her around the other side of the table, nudged her in the arm, his hands full of books and paperwork as well. '' Something on your mind?'' 

'' Something's always on her mind, Daniel. You know that,'' came the Colonel's reply before she could come up with something suitable to fob Daniel off. 

Daniel rolled his expressive eyes and cast a scornful look over his shoulder at their sarcastic leader. '' More than some, anyway.'' 

'' That's not under dispute, Danny. You're the brains, we're the brawn.'' He pushed his hands in his pockets, nodded at Sam. '' Just an expression. No offence, Carter.'' 

'' None taken,' she murmured, absently, looking curiously into offices and labs as they walked down the corridor, staring fixedly at the odd personnel who walked past them, nodding respectfully at the immortal flagship team. 

What were other people doing this New Year's? Were there parties she didn't know about, team gatherings that didn't happen with SG-1, surprise functions? Would the New Year bring new, random frowned-upon couples into the SGC? People who were, just about, allowed to be together, to see if it would work or the demands of the job would force them apart. 

What did normal people do out there in the real world anyway? 

'' Hey! Sam!'' 

She stopped, turned and look at the trio of bemused faces. She came back to them and saw that she'd continued walking when she should have turned left. '' Sorry.'' 

'' Uh, Carter, maybe you should go and see Fraiser?'' the Colonel suggested. '' You're looking kind of... peaky.'' 

'' Peaky, sir?'' 

His eyes shifted away from her face. '' Maybe it's the lights.'' 

'' No, no,'' Daniel persisted oblivious to the Colonel's discomfort at simply looking at her. '' I think you're right. Sam, are you feeling okay? I've not seen you this distracted since.. since... well, never.'' 

'' It's been a rough couple of months, Daniel. I think I have a right to be distracted,'' she responded, just a little more harshly than she'd intended. 

If anything, this made them stare at her more. 

Suddenly, it was too much. It was cloying. They'd forgotten her birthday. He hurt her every time she saw him. She winced and looked away from them, from their strange version of friendship. '' Look, I can take of myself. See you next year.'' She turned and walked swiftly away, narrowly avoiding crashing into an airman. 

'' Carter!'' 

'' Sam!'' 

As she turned around the corner, she couldn't help but feel relieved. Away from them, things seemed to get better. The further she walked, the faster, the better she felt. She would go home this week. No. She'd go home, pack a bag, and she'd get away. Get the hell away from this place. Just for a little while. Maybe she'd go see Mark, drop in uninvited. Maybe, maybe... maybe she wouldn't. 

Maybe she'd just drive. North, east, west, south. Just drive. _Away_. 

She went home, this one thought reverberating in her shattered mind. 

The speed with which she'd packed, the ease with which she threw her things into a bag, locked up her house and didn't even bother to give the spare set of keys over to a neighbour, really should have told her something. Told her that she was running away. Carters didn't run away. 

Then again, that was probably, no, definitely, why she was choosing this course of action. Something out of character, something completely un-Carter-like. But maybe Sam, Sam who rarely got an outing these days, maybe Sam would do this sort of thing. Maybe Sam would love the feel of throwing her bag into the boot of her car, of the sound that slam made up and down her quiet road. 

With a delight that was bordering on hysteria, she turned the key in her ignition and drove away from her neat little house in Colorado Springs. 

As soon as she could, she put her foot down on the accelerator, hard. Faster, faster. Her radio was on but she couldn't hear the songs, the voice, the ads. She kept turning it up, though, wound down her windows despite the chill air and actually felt the cold on her skin like it was an emotion. A bracing, chilling, refreshing epiphany that seemed to leap into her blood, rush around her body with the fast beat of her heart, cooling heated, hurt thoughts, soothing the burn of anger and numbing all the pain that she regularly carried around with her. 

This was so right, nothing had ever felt so right before. She was leaving, she wasn't running away. And at that moment, she never wanted to go back. 


	2. Chapter Two

PG-13 for swearing and sexual implications 

Spoilers: The First Commandment, Politics, Children of the Gods, Watergate, Shades of Grey, Seth 

A/N: This could have gone so many ways... but it went this way. 

* 

* 

* 

_'' So what do you think?''_

_'' About what?'' Sam looked over at her CO of nearly a year, saw that he'd torn his beer label to shreds. Again. What was that thing someone had once told her? Ah, yes, that tearing up the labels was a sign of sexual frustration._

_If that was true, she'd have a mountain by now._

_Besides, he was separated, getting a divorce. She was sure sex really wasn't top priority at the moment. Even if he had slept with that bloody Kynthia woman. Unconsciously, Sam started picking at the label of her own beer bottle. It had been a surprise to find out that she and the Colonel drank the same brand of beer._

_'' That we were engaged.''_

_She couldn't help but smile. She'd been thinking about that a lot, too, now that she'd had the time to. '' I think it's... theoretically possible.'' Nice one, Sam._

_He snorted, leaned back on his chair and looked over to where Daniel was trying to teach Teal'c the fine art of pool. '' I was trying to work out... how. I mean, I'm not sure about you, but traditionally I don't marry a woman I barely know. We must have met before.''_

_'' Yeah, but when?'' _

_Was it weird how neither of them questioned the fact that they were engaged? That they were romantically involved. It had been a shock, of course, when Daniel had said it, but then Sam had looked at him, he'd looked at her, and she'd thought - why not? Why the hell not? She thought he was attractive. Okay, very attractive. He could be a royal pain in the ass_, _but then she liked difficult men. They were illogical and she liked the illogical. She liked making the logical out of the illogical._

_And he had that touch of the lunatic fringe that she always, without fail, found appealing. _

_'' Well, it must have been through the Stargate program.''_

_'' It took me six years to meet, propose to, and get engaged to Sara.''_

_That seemed an awful long time to Sam. '' It was probably me, then. I got engaged to Jonas about six months after meeting him.''_

_'' Six months!'' He whistled. '' That's fast.''_

_'' I make most decisions quickly. Even wrong decisions.''_

_'' How did you know... when did you know it was a wrong decision?''_

_She paused in her picking at her label, glanced up at him through her eyelashes. She felt comfortable with him. Maybe it was the beer, the several beers they'd consumed, maybe it was the atmosphere of a job well done, of a year survived, of the war to come. _

_Maybe she just felt comfortable with him because he was a nice man who respected and liked her. Maybe. _

_She decided to tell him something she'd never told anyone. '' I was trying on my mother's wedding dress. I was standing in the mirror in our bedroom, trying to do up all the buttons.'' _

_She could picture it all so easily. There had been millions of them. Tiny pearl ones all up the back. Jonas had been out somewhere, she didn't recall where, so he was no help. _

_'' It took me fifteen minutes to get them all done up and then I was standing there, trying to decide what I would do with my hair, it was long then, what jewellery I would wear. I was thinking about the something old, borrowed and blue stuff. I figured the dress was old; it had been my gran's too...''_

_'' Wow,'' he'd interrupted. '' What did it look like?''_

_'' It was white. Well, by that stage it had actually gone this old, kind of cream colour. Thank God.'' She'd grinned as he'd laughed. ''Pearl buttons up the back. Tight sleeves, tight bodice, the usual explosion of skirts. I think my mom modified it because the neckline was decidedly lower than I could ever imagine my gran coping with.''_

_'' Thank goodness for mom.''_

_She sighed. '' Yeah. She would have loved to see me...'' Shaking her head, telling herself not to go down that road, she continued with her story. '' I was looking in the mirror and I felt funny. I felt... regretful. And I wondered why. I spent ages staring into that mirror trying to work out why I was feeling regretful. Then I got it. I regretted the fact that I would be wearing my mother's wedding dress for Jonas.'' She winced. Even now it sounded cruel._

_He looked fascinated. Probably never thought she'd have this much of an interesting past. '' Man. Did you, ah, give the ring back straight away?''_

_Sam shook her head. '' God, I couldn't. I panicked, as usual. Packed the dress up and told myself I was being ridiculous. I loved him. I did, really. I just...'' She rolled her eyes, leaned forward. '' I have this tendency to want to fix men. I don't know where I get it.... okay, I do know where I get it from, but I'm really not going to tell you about that. He needed me, or I thought he did. That's what I told myself. I told myself I couldn't do that to him, that he deserved better than that. '' She shook her head. '' It didn't work. I gave the ring back two weeks after that, using some argument we'd had hundreds of times as the reason, though I knew the truth.''_

_'' Christ. And I thought my love life was messed up.''_

_She pursed her lips. '' I should tell you about my first boyfriend then. That would really astonish you.''_

_'' Go on, then.''_

_'' No. I don't want to shock you,'' she said primly, reaching for her beer as he chuckled._

_He tipped his own beer up to his mouth, paused and said, '' You shock me daily, Captain, trust me.''_

_She didn't ask him what he meant by that, didn't think he'd tell her. Something in his voice, though, reminded her of that first mission, of the tone of his voice when he'd said 'Oh I adore you already'. And it made her feel suddenly warm._ _She wondered, absently, what it would be like to sleep with him._

* 

The entire bar was staring at the TV screen now, ever since Eve's screech of excitement. The girl was clutching at Sam, her long, pale pink nails digging into the muscle of her upper arm. It was actually quite painful, though Sam couldn't feel a thing apart from shock. 

He was a bloody film star. 

The local news segment eventually moved on from the astonishing news that Daniel Frakes had randomly selected some off-road bar to dance with some random barmaid and had been caught by on amateur film footage. 

Daniel Frakes? Sam thought urgently. Who? What? A _film star_. Hollywood. Talk of Oscars and Academy Awards. After being out of touch with the real world for half a decade, ending up here in the middle of nowhere had hardly helped her general knowledge much. 

'' I knew he looked familiar!'' Evie shrieked, jumping up and down again. 

'' OHMYGOD!'' Rachael raced across the room, black dreadlocks flying, and threw herself under the bar. Enthusiastically, she grabbed Sam by her shoulders and shook her hard. '' You've slept with DanielfuckingFrakes. I'm so bloody envious of you!'' 

Sam was still standing there, shell shocked. Well, she'd known when he'd told her his name that he'd been lying. But then she'd been trained to notice that sort of thing. He couldn't be that good an actor if he couldn't even lie to some nobody barmaid he'd taken a fancy to. 

How ironic. Her one and only one night stand was famous. Her first and last casual affair was some superstar. 

'' I knew I should have hit on him,'' Evie was saying to one of their regulars. She was leaning on the bar, her Wonderbra-d cleavage pushed up further, a fresh cigarette in her mouth as she sought in a drawer for a lighter or some matches. '' I just knew it. It was the stubble that put me off. You'll notice our Sam's a little more pink about the, er, face, arms and chest than usual.'' 

Blushing - which no doubt went with the rash on her face and upper chest - Sam went to fetch the drinks that had been ordered only moments before the blurry image of herself on the local news had sent her into shock. Her customers were obliging, grunting their thanks and sliding cash over the bar before shuffling off to a dark corner. 

'' Daniel Frakes,'' Rachael sighed, still staring at the TV as if she could drain the last dregs of fame from it. She patted a hand over her heart. '' Ooh, what I wouldn't give to take back last night. I should have worn my blue top, not that horrible old black thing. Not that I grudge you your five minutes of fame, Sam, but, really, we all know it should have been me.'' 

Sam grinned, knowing that, despite Rachael's serious tone, she was joking. '' Naturally.'' 

Rach laughed, threw a beer-smelling rag at Sam's head, missed, and laughed harder. '' Was he good?'' 

'' Good? Good? Of course he was good. He's a superstar!'' Evie glared at Sam, hands on her ample hips. '' Well? Was he?'' she demanded, not to be outdone by Rachael. 

Sam found herself blushing harder, which was ridiculous. '' I'm not going to tell you that.'' 

'' What? Not ever?'' 

Mindful of the eyes on them, Sam hissed, '' Later.'' 

Evie and Rachael rolled their eyes but knew they weren't going to get anything out of her until 'later', whenever it was, arrived. 

'' Stubborn cow,'' Rach muttered, thumping away in her huge combat boots. 

Evie just sighed deeply, as if the whole world was resting on her shoulders. 

Sam smirked, feeling vaguely pleased with herself, the same she'd felt this morning ebbing away. Of course he'd been good in bed. He'd been wonderful, considerate, gentle, all the things she'd expected him to be. Sam could usually tell when she danced with men, just from the way they held her. Funnily enough, it had been the way he'd been dancing with her that had decided her. She'd had plenty of offers from men in the time she'd worked at that particular bar, but she'd never seriously considered them until 'Jack Mathers' had walked in. 

He'd grabbed her attention immediately. The way he'd walked into the bar, his eyes had swept the room and landed on her, the way he'd smiled ever so slightly, like he'd expected her to be there, like he'd been looking for her. That kind of attention was bound to get a woman's head turning. Now, knowing who he was, she thought that he probably looked at every woman he wanted like that. It was probably a practised look. But she didn't mind that. She was never going to see him again. One night had been all she'd wanted. 

The pictures they'd shown on the news had shown a far neater man than the one who had turned up in the bar the previous night. His eyes had been the same, the deep brown, pained eyes that had seemed so achingly familiar, but his hair had been swept back neatly, his face clean-shaven. He hadn't been the rugged, casual man who'd walked in through the door in old, faded blue denim jeans and black T-shirt, abused leather jacket. 

Then there was his 'name'. 'Jack'. 

_Jack_. 

When she'd cried out his name early in the morning, she'd known then and there it had been someone else's name she'd been screaming. Afterwards, lying sleepily together, sweaty bodies sticking together, she'd still known. Known that the brown eyes she'd been staring into had somehow materialised into someone else's. But that didn't bother her. For all she knew, he was using her in exactly the same way. They were never going to see each other again. 

He didn't need to know she'd picked him because he'd reminded her of another Jack. 

So she missed him sometimes. There was nothing she could do about that. Technically, she was AWOL. In fact, AWOL as of four and a half weeks ago. She was in deep, deep shit. Maybe Hammond would swing it for her, cite her importance to the SGC, to the world, to the future of the human race... 

Perhaps. 

Didn't mean she wanted to go back, though. The black and white pain of life before, of living on the edge of physical danger, or potential death, of suicide missions and duty and honour and regulations.... they were nothing to this life. To the technicolour of the people around her, these normal people eking out a normal existence. Somehow, what had been before didn't seem real any longer. If she let herself, she could imagine that it wasn't. That it had all been some long, twisted dream in which Jack O'Neill had repeatedly featured in a torturous recurring role. 

'' Maybe he'll put you in his next film.'' 

Sam glanced up, smiled. '' Sure, Robert. Like I can act.'' 

'' I don't know. You're a smart girl. I'm sure you could manage.'' He winked at her, tapped the dollars he'd put on the bar. '' That's my payment for tonight. Your tip's in that.'' He slid off the stool with some difficulty. '' Night, young lady.'' 

'' Night, Robert. Sleep well.'' She picked up the crumpled money, worriedly watched as the elderly man shuffled towards the door, waving goodnight to the odd familiar friend. He was a small, frail old man, with a cap of thick white-as-snow hair that contrasted strongly with the deep, nut-coloured permanent tan of his face. His eyes were an extraordinary pale blue, clear, unfocussed and as sharp as anyone's. He had the eyes of a hawk, could spot a contact lens on the floor before the rest of the 'young ladies' at the bar did. Still, his frail appearance kept reminding her of his age and she knew the wind was blowing bitterly outside. 

'' Oh, stop it,'' Evie muttered as she swept past the till. '' He'll probably outlive you.'' 

'' Is he really a hundred-and-two?'' 

'' Apparently.'' 

Well if that wasn't impressive, Sam didn't know what was. '' Man.'' 

'' Exactly.'' 

It wasn't until she was walking up the back outdoor staircase to the rooms that she, Evie and Rachael shared that it occurred to Sam that someone might recognise her. The possibility was slim and didn't throw her into an instant state of panic. The bulletin had been virtually last on the local news. And it wasn't as if she was in Colorado in the first place. Only if the news went national, then she might have to think about moving, which was a shame. She'd gotten used to this place. 

* 

Ingrained military training habit had her waking at dawn, her body turned towards the pale, fairy light filtering through the thin cotton curtains. These days she woke up easily, slowly, and she was allowed to enjoy for however fleeting a moment the beauty that winter mornings could bring. 

Had this been before, she would have jumped out of bed, headed for the shower immediately. Skipped breakfast, usually, got in her car and driven to the mountain, her brain already humming with the things she'd do today the, excitements she'd see, the new experiences. She'd be inside before the sun was above the houses and probably wouldn't come out again until it was several hours past sunset. 

Now, Sam couldn't imagine it. Couldn't imagine missing the beauty of the planet she had been so dedicated to saving. 

She sat up, reached for the frayed edge of the curtains and tugged it over the curtain rail until a clear shaft of sunshine slit through the dimness of the closet masquerading as a bedroom. Smiling, she rested her arm on the window sill and looked out at the bare fields, the twiggy trees and the crisp new sky. It wasn't a spectacular view, but it was enough and Sam loved it. 

Ten minutes later, she decided the chill her arms were getting was enough of a reason to climb out of bed and see what she could scrounge in the kitchen for her breakfast. If she was lucky, there'd be some fruit and she could make herself a salad. If she wasn't, it was going to be a slice of bread again and she hated eating stodgy foods in the morning. 

No one else was up, which was of no surprise to Sam. Rachael, who was in her early twenties, couldn't survive on a few hours sleep a night and so wouldn't surface until before noon, just in time for opening. Evie usually roused herself around ten, so Sam had a good few hours by herself. 

Which was just perfect. 

She found an apple in the refrigerator and climbed out of the kitchen window onto the rusty iron balcony that wasn't strictly up to code (hence the locked exit onto it). She'd wrapped herself up in a long, soft grey lambswool cardigan that had been her mother's and had Evie's fluffy neon green slippers on so the low temperature didn't immediately start to bother her. Walking slowly along to the balcony, mindful of the ominous creaking noise, she climbed over the end banisters onto the gravel top of the roof extension which housed the public toilets. Avoiding the little mossy lumps that would stain Evie's slippers, she ambled over to the far edge where there was a clean patch of roofing, her favourite spot to sit and think. 

From this spot she could see the main road and the approaching cars, beyond that there were more fields, the occasional, lone house and beyond that still an endless view of trees. Crunching and munching her apple, the early morning sunshine a warmth on the side of her face, she sat listening to the stillness, the quiet. Even the occasional HGV passing and spitting out gravel did nothing dissolve the pleasure she felt at her alone time. It was almost surreal, these moments in the morning. She could imagine doing this every day and never getting tired of it. 

So it was with some surprise that she watched a batted old pickup truck pull in at the entrance, heading towards the packing lot of the dilapidated motel across from the bar where she worked. That in itself wasn't a surprise. It was the man who got out of it that shocked the hell out of her. 

He turned from closing and locking his door, seemed to know exactly where to look for her because he pulled his sunglasses off and waved at her. 

At her. 

The apple core dangling from her fingers, Sam continued to stare, watching as he walked over to her. There was nothing out of the ordinary in his appearance. He was wearing a denim shirt over a pair of khakis, normal dusty workman's boots on his feet. 

He came to stand directly beneath her, his smile a mile wide. '' Major. I've been looking for you.'' 

'' You saw me on the news,'' she deduced, somewhat nervous about the expression on his face. 

'' Not me, per se, but yes, that's how I've been able to track you down. I must say, you're looking well. Considering.'' 

'' Considering what?'' 

'' Well. May I?'' He nodded to the ladder that was lying on the ground at his feet. 

'' Go ahead,'' she sighed, throwing the apple core down into the flower bed. 

She didn't quite know what Maybourne was doing here. Last time she'd seen him he'd been in Russia, curiously, being his usual mysterious and irritating self. She'd presumed he'd gone to jail, where he belonged. 

'' How are you enjoying your little, um, vacation?'' he asked, setting the ladder up next to her and carefully climbing up. 

'' Just peachy, thank you.'' Not really knowing what she was doing, she held the top of the ladder for him. After all, she didn't want him to have an accident now did she? 

When he reached the top, he sighed loudly and stretched. '' Nice view.'' 

'' I like it. What are you doing here, Maybourne?'' 

'' Looking for you, of course.'' He moved the ladder along and sat down next to her, swinging his legs over the side. If anyone looked at them, they would surely have thought it a cosy scene, two friends, dangling their legs off a rooftop. 

Frankly, it was creeping Sam out. 

'' Why?'' 

'' Why not? So, a waitress in a bar. I'm sure your father would be proud.'' 

She wasn't going to rise to that, particularly since she dearly wanted to. '' How's running from the law? That treating you well?'' At least, she presumed her was running from the law - though how he got out of jail for treason she couldn't imagine. 

He smiled again. '' I always did like you, Major.'' 

'' No you didn't. And I don't like you.'' She looked away from him, shaking her head. '' Have you come to turn me in?'' 

Maybourne laughed. '' Don't be ridiculous, Major. Why would I do that?'' 

'' Seems like the type of thing you'd do.'' 

'' Then you don't know me very well at all, now, do you?'' 

'' And I don't really want to.'' 

Again with the laugh. '' No, Sam - I may call you Sam may I? - Sam, I'm in need of your help.'' 

She thought the words first and decided against them, then realised she really didn't need to be polite to him. '' Get lost.'' 

The smiled faltered slightly. '' Now, now. You don't even know what I'm about to ask.'' 

She sighed, her good mood completely gone. It was starting to get a little breezy now, too, and underneath her cardigan all she was wearing were a pair of thin pale sweats and a white strappy top. '' Go on, then, Maybourne. Tell me what you want.'' 

'' There's a Goa'uld I've been tracking.....'' 

She hissed at him, immediately, looking around even though it was far too early in the morning for anyone in the area to be up and about. '' Maybourne, what the hell...?'' 

'' Sam, listen to me. NID brought back several Goa'uld specimens from their travels off-world. Five died, one was zapped back by the Asgard from the NID site Colonel O'Neill infiltrated and one... went missing.'' 

'' Oh God.'' She lowered her head into her propped up hands. '' How? How did it go missing?'' 

'' No one knows. It just did.'' He nudged her shoulder with his own. '' Suffice to say, a number of people are concerned. The Goa'uld goes by the name of Mut.'' 

'' Mut?'' She felt decidedly Colonel O'Neill-ish in saying it with such scathing in her voice, but it couldn't be helped. 

'' I have a folder in the car for you detailing her particulars but suffice to say, she was considered the queen of the Gods. Mut means 'mother'.'' 

'' How do you know.. I mean, presumably the Goa'uld were brought back in contained form. How do you know it's not sitting on someone's shelf somewhere?'' 

He gave her a very patronising look. '' Because I've already found her. And believe me, she's not in a jar.'' 

The implications were horrifying. Her own experiences with Seth and the cult he'd formed full of young people brainwashed into believing he was a real god, destroying families in process, was enough of an impetus not to let any Goa'uld, however minor, infiltrate Earth's population. '' What do you want with me, then?'' 

'' I need you to get close to her.'' 

Her mind automatically starting picking apart his plans. '' I can't get close to her, Maybourne. I've been blended. She'll be able to tell.'' 

'' Yes. I know. That's the point.'' 

Maybe it was because she'd not exercised her brain seriously in several weeks, but she'd just lost the plot. '' What?'' 

'' Her Highness is living it up royally. Her host ran a.... well, a restaurant, if you like and Mut sees no reason not to continue this particular avenue for the time being. She likes attractive, slightly mysterious staff who'll appeal to her clients....'' 

Clients? Attractive staff? No way... '' A strip joint.'' 

'' No, no, an exclusive restaurant where the waitresses and waiters are simply skimpily clad. It's a very classy joint now that Mut has got her claws into it.'' 

_Claws. Hand devices. Oh, here she went again...._

'' Maybourne. She'll recognise me,'' Sam pressed. 

'' And if she does? It'll just add to the mystery. You can claim to have had blackouts, then a strange illness. Say your doctors have decided it was a form of epilepsy. Make something up, Sam. You're a bright girl. She'll employ you, let me tell you. She likes natural blondes.'' 

Even if this Goa'uld did employ her - and Sam wasn't suggesting she was anywhere near agreeing to this ridiculous plot - what then? Why hadn't he gone to the SGC? Something was up here, but for the time being she was going to keep her suspicions to herself. At the very least, she could send a communication to Daniel or someone, warning them about what Maybourne was up to. '' Why do you think I'll do this for you?'' 

'' A well placed phone call and the Air Force will be here in mere minutes, my dear.'' 

Casually, Sam shrugged. '' Maybe I want to go home.'' 

'' To jail? Your warrant is already out. Hammond tried to squash it as best he could, the President was willing, but a month without word from you? There's only so much pressure Hammond can be put under.'' He patted her knee. '' You'll do this for me.'' 

'' Why?'' 

'' Because, if you do, I can get you back into the SGC. I can make the warrant disappear. I can make it seem like this was a government sanctioned undercover operation all along.'' 

She blinked. '' I don't want to go back.'' 

'' Yes, you do. This isn't you, is it? Do you really think it is? This is some personal crisis, Sam, and a perfectly well deserved crisis too. Come on. I'll buy you breakfast; you're looking skinny.'' 


	3. Chapter Three

PG-13: Sexual situations/implications/stuff and some swearing. 

Spoilers: The Entity 

A/N: Um.... hey, Chapter Three! Ta-da! Nothing to say at this point. Disclaimer at the beginning, I suppose. Okay, actually, yes there is. I quite agree with the reviewer who said this was rather out of character for Sam. She's not really the running away type, is she? But hopefully it's not too much out of character for this to be totally unbelievable. 

* 

* 

* 

_Janet, eyes lowered and voice tempered, had casually suggested that the Colonel drive her home. _

_Daniel had chimed in immediately, sitting next to Sam on the infirmary bed and reaching out to touch her hand. '' That's a good idea.''_

_Sam, fixated by the feel of Daniel's hand on hers, simply stared at the human contact as if it was the be all and end all of her world. How strange were human hands... Four fingers, one thumb. Hard little nails, wrinkles, blue veins, dips and bumps and excess flesh. Daniel's fingers were currently dirty, black ink prints on his thumbs from the books he'd been reading recently. Sam's fingers were immaculate. Short nails, white tipped, fair skin, pale from spending too much time inside._

_'' .... that, Sam? The Colonel will take you home, then,'' Janet said decisively, snapping her clipboard together. '' Perhaps he could stay for a while, too. Help you settle in. Colonel?''_

_Her CO spoke for the first time. '' Sure.'' His voice sounded rusty and unused. She knew he was looking at her hard, but she didn't know why. He had this awful, awful look in his eyes and Sam wasn't quite up to emotions just yet, she didn't want to think about why he was looking at her like that._

_'' Well. No time like the present.'' Janet smiled at them all. '' Teal'c, perhaps you could wheel Major Carter to the elevator? Just .....''_

_Sam's attention was drawn to the lights. She'd been staring at the lights before. If you stared long enough, the light became everything, a blinding synthetic whiteness_. _So very beautiful, the edges tinged with all the colours imaginable._

_'' .... an honour, Doctor Fraiser.''_

_Not protesting as she normally would have done, Sam hopped off the bed she had been residing in for a week, recovering from a malady no human on Earth had ever experienced, and sat down in the wheelchair._

_The Colonel walked beside her, not saying anything, his presence soothing. He helped her out of the elevator and she smiled her vague thanks to Teal'c and Daniel as she walked into the elevator._

_The silence on the route up was unpleasant. The elevator hum wasn't quite loud enough in Sam's mind, which was a problem. '' I was in here at one point,'' she said suddenly, jerkily._

_He blanched and looked at the ground._

_Not understanding, just yet, about why he was taking this so badly when everyone else seemed only to be relieved, she reached out and just grazed his elbow, aware as she had always been aware that contact between them was fleeting. '' Hi,'' she said simply._

_He gazed at her, his expression suddenly raw, eyes burning with intensity. '' I-''_

_The elevator pinged at their destination and she looked up, through the opening doors. He had lost the impetus to talk, apparently. '' Is my car still here?''_

_'' Yeah. We'll take mine.''_

_She shrugged, able to agree with him. The idea of him folding himself up into the driving seat of her car was slightly ridiculous and had she felt able to hold a long conversation she would have shared it with him. He didn't look up to talking, either, though, and she watched him carefully as he walked slowly with her to his truck. _

_The car journey was better for Sam. Noises, loud ones. The radio, the indicator, people outside the drawn down window. The sun came out between bursts of cloud and the heat on her skin was a delicate, lovely thing. She felt almost at peace, but for the quiet, intense presence of the man next to her._

_She turned her head to look at him, admiring his profile, found herself admiring the aesthetic qualities_ _of his appearance. She loved his hair best. No, maybe his eyes. Okay, they were pretty much top equal on the Jack O'Neill list of attractions. She loved his height, too. She'd always found it difficult to find men taller than her - she'd tried dating men shorter than her but it was often awkward and uncomfortable, for both sides. Besides, she had this inbuilt belief that said the right man for her would fit her perfectly, that if he held her he could hold her tightly, her head could come down on his shoulder at just the right angle and it wouldn't be uncomfortable. She didn't know when she'd noticed that he had that quality, but she certainly knew it for sure now._

_Just as she knew that he was the right man for her._

_Vaguely, Sam knew this wasn't something she'd admitted to herself before. Whether it was the re-booting of her brain that had triggered this epiphany, or perhaps just the trauma involved in being trapped inside her own body, she didn't know. All that mattered was that for this brief moment, at least, she realised that this man was her future. This man who was quietly torturing himself over what he had to do for duty._

_They pulled in front of her little house and he turned the engine off, unclicked his seatbelt, and then couldn't seem to move further. '' Carter, I-'' he began, then faltered, shook his head. '' Never mind, never damn mind.'' _

_She watched her hand drift from her own thigh over to him, watched her fingers slide into his hand, saw his face soften. '' Hi,'' she said, smiling openly at him. _

_Jack O'Neill turned to look at her. '' I killed you.''_

_Oh, yes, so he had._

_She had a strange, flickering image of him holding the zat up at her, aiming, but then there was nothing but the rush of what she assumed was the computer mainframe, strange, flashing images from terminal screens, video security and her consciousness scattering I AM HERE. Screaming... _

_'' You're never going to think otherwise are you?''_

_He shook his head, smiling tightly, his hand squeezing hers. '' I saw you die. I killed you. You died.'' _

_'' Guess I'm a ghost, then.''_

_He swallowed. '' It sure feels like it.''_

_She wrinkled her nose, reached down to unclick her seatbelt. '' Guess I'll have to prove it to you, then.'' So saying, she climbed up onto her hands and knees and crawled over to him, slid a leg across his lap, straddling him. Sam took great delight in the way he sucked in a shocked breath, his eyelids fluttering. The physical contact was more intimate than they'd ever had, even as Jonah and Thera, and his hands went to her thighs, unconsciously shifting her closer. '' Feel real, yet?'' She shifted her hips deliberately, rotated them so his head dropped back against the seat rest and his back arched, hips jerked against her ever so slightly._

_Lust, desire, deep, low feelings she hadn't felt in so long flowed through her blood. Blood that was organic. _

_'' Sam, this isn't you...'' he managed on a moan._

_'' I know. Maybe tomorrow I'll be shocked at myself. I'd take advantage of this, if I were you,'' she whispered, grinning and kissing his forehead, the little crinkles that said he was confused as hell. '' You did the right thing, Jack. The entity could have done anything. It could have set off the self-destruct, blown the mountain to pieces and all the people inside.'' Her hands came up and stroked the sides of his face, watching as he eyes tried to take in everything she was doing at once. '' But, that's all beside the point. I'm alive. I'm right here.'' She reached down and picked up his hands, drew them to her chest so he could feel her heart beating, then, mischievously, she drew them down over her breasts. _

_His mouth gaped a little, a rush of breath leaving in shock and excited pleasure, his eyes leaving his hands briefly to look at her._ _'' Sam...''_

_'' What? You think we're going to have sex in a car? Don't be ridiculous. We're way too old for that,'' she chastised him._

_His hands were cupping her breasts, his eyes now fixated on them. '' Well, you've kinda gone and got my hopes up there, Sam.''_

_She giggled. '' Do you mean to tell me that if I dragged you into my bedroom right now, you'd just give in?''_

_Jack's response was immediate, and honest. '' No, you're in no state to make that kind of a decision.''_

_'' See? Gentleman that you are, you'll wait until, I don't know, next week. When I'm feeling better.''_

_'' Next week you'll be mortified.'' His eyes went to hers. '' Next week you won't want to remember.''_

_The possibility that that was true shocked her cold. Her faze outs, her delightful little forays into a dreamy state of wakefulness... this did have all the qualities of one of her more lurid fantasies. '' I'm sure I...''_

_'' You're traumatised, Sam. This isn't you. This is... the you that wants to re-experience everything.'' Quickly, he lifted his mouth to hers and kissed her, a little open mouthed, a little slip of his tongue, enough for her heart to skip a beat. '' Just for the record, I want you to remember that what we have is nothing to be ashamed of.''_

_'' And, just for the record, if next week I hate myself, remember that deep down I know I'm in love with you.''_

_His reaction was swift. His hands swiftly moved up to cup her face, draw her closer for another kiss, this time more involved, this time a kiss to end all kisses, his mouth slanting over hers, tasting her completely, turning her insides to jello and her heart into a hammering unstoppable thing. '' I love you too,'' he whispered, over and over and over again. _

* 

Gasping, Sam threw herself upright in her tiny bed. She'd had that dream before, and it had always caused her to react in the same way. Her heart was literally trying to get out of her chest, hammering so hard she thought it would break something, burst a vessel. Hot and bothered, more than a little turned on, she fanned her face repeatedly, pushing the sheets down off her body. Her insides were still squirming, as if he'd been there right then, putting his heart behind a kiss she'd made up. 

Hadn't she? 

The weeks after the entity had snatched her body were very disorganised in Sam's mind. Her waking state had been full of strange images, daydreams. She'd see snippets of people walking down corridors, in offices, working away in the labs and realise that they weren't her memories. Sometimes she'd zone out for a few minutes, sometimes she'd drift off into a strange sort of waking sleep. The first time she'd realised that, possibly maybe, the dream she had repeatedly of her taking advantage of her CO could have been real was when Janet had told her he'd taken her home that first time. 

And, just as he'd told her in the dream, she'd been mortified. 

His attitude towards her when she'd come back to work had been the usual concerned, sarcastic, joking, serious mess that it usually was. She'd sought his face for some kind of recognition of the words she may or may not have said to him, and his own response, but had dubiously concluded that she must have dreamt some if not all of it. 

It just wasn't her, was it? Climbing onto him, teasing him that way. Oh God, she was getting hot again.... 

Strange that dreaming of him put her into a state of amazing sexual frustration. If they ever did the real thing... 

_Not good, not good_, she thought, getting out of bed and slipping her feet into a pair of shoes. Sam left her room and, more importantly, the bed behind as she shuffled into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. Cold, icy cold, water. 

The sunflower on the wall told her it was half past four, not too early in the morning considering how early she usually woke up. She shouldn't have been surprised she wouldn't sleep well, and that dream always visited in the most awkward of situations. She'd once had it off-world, lying right next to him and he'd reached over to touch her in concern and she'd got out of that tent so fast he thought she'd been having a nightmare. He came after her, his concern so plain on his face that she'd have laughed if she hadn't frantically been trying to avoid his hands. He'd been so hurt by that night, by her perceived rejection. After that she tried not to sleep next to him, always putting at least Daniel between her and him, maybe even Teal'c if he felt like sleeping. 

Sitting down at the small table, Sam regarded the beads of water on the outside of the glass, watching them tremble and succumb to gravity. Maybourne. _Maybourne_. 

Perhaps it wasn't shocking that she was considering his offer. The sight of an ex-Air Force officer had sent her mind into what could conceivably be called confused turmoil. Her bubble had been popped, neatly and efficiently, in true Air Force style. Sam Carter was exposed to the real world now, the real world, not the normal world, because there had never been a normal world for her. That was for people who didn't know what was out there. 

The Goa'uld were out there, and now they were down here. It was something she'd been consciously not thinking about, not thinking about the greater good of mankind, of Earth, of the fight she had sworn to fight, the duty she'd sworn to perform for her planet. If anything, the people on Earth were in a bubble, a lovely bubble where reality had no part. 

She pushed aside the glass and lowered her head down onto her folded arms. Absent without leave. She never thought she'd see the day when Major Samantha Carter gave in to a personal problem and let it overwhelm her. 

_Oh well done, Sam, well done. Way to go._

What had she done? 

Right, enough was enough. Decision making time. Fast decision. Stay or go? 

Go. 

Well, that was easy enough. But which path did she take? Did she help out Maybourne in a plot that dubious, devious and probably very illegal, all on the remote chance he would get her back into the SGC without a hitch? Hmm. 

Or did she give in, turn on her mobile phone which had lain dead and uncommunicative at the bottom of her sports bag and call up her CO, or Hammond, even Daniel. Did she give in the hard way? Take the legal route, the route she clearly deserved for breaking regulations and upsetting everyone she knew. 

Well, Sam? 

What are you going to do? 

* 

The answer machine. Of all the ironic.... 

_'' Hi, this is Jack O'Neill. Leave a message after the tone.''_

'' Colonel, this is Carter. Hi!'' _Hi? You ran away from SG-1 and all you can say is 'hi'? _'' Look, I've just met Maybourne and he has this deal for me. Apparently there's a Goa'uld running around and he wants me to catch it for him. Just wondered what you thought about this idea, considering I'm technically AWOL and have spent the last three weeks working in a bar off of Route...'' She paused, decided it wouldn't be a good idea to give that away, just in case the bar got in trouble for housing a criminal. '' Well, suffice to say.....'' She stopped, as the connection jumped. 

'' Hullo?'' a breathless voice said, panting down the phone. '' Hullo?'' 

Sam stopped. The voice sounded... sounded distinctly female but she tried just in case, '' Colonel?'' 

'' Um, no, no, this is Sara O'Neill. Who's speaking? Damn, I don't suppose you know how to delete messages do you? Ah-hah! There it is, sorry about that. Jack's not... able to come to the phone right now - is it urgent? I mean, is it work? He is on official vacation.'' 

Sam couldn't speak. She was speechless. 

What the _fuck_ was his ex-wife doing in his house? 

That thought, vilely bitter and furious against a woman she knew little about, certainly had no cause to dislike her on personality alone, drove Sam into automatic. '' I'm sorry, of course. I'll call some other time. Thank you, Mrs. O'Neill.'' 

'' Well, if you're sure...'' 

'' I'm sure. Sorry to bother you.'' 

The woman laughed lightly. '' Oh, no bother. Good bye.'' 

'' Bye.'' 

Sam found herself standing in the middle of the gravel car park with no idea how she'd got there and no idea what to do. Calling Colonel O'Neill had been her last option, her last chance. She knew he could keep her secret, she knew he would know what the score was. Even he had contacts. The President loved him, for Christ's sake. If anyone could help her, he could. 

But he was unable to come to the phone. Why? What was he doing? She hadn't said he wasn't there, he was out buying marital groceries, just that he was 'not able to come to the phone'. What did that mean? 

_Must not jump to conclusions, must not jump to conclusions_. 

Could it be... no. 

No, that was ridiculous. 

A month out of the picture and he was shacking up with his wife? 

_As he had an absolute right to do. The mother of his son. His wife. Ex-wife. _

_WHATEVER._

She about turned in the car park, the gravel grinding underneath her sneakers. Furiously, she marched ten steps forward, then spun on her heel and marched back, ordering herself to think about work. Work, work, work. She would think about this issue later, later when she was free to... panic. 

Why the hell was he on 'official vacation' - what could only be downtime? Unless they'd been on some hectic mission without her. SG-1 minus Sam Carter. Oh God, was that the way it was going to be? 

Focus, Samantha. Pull yourself together. 

She couldn't call Hammond. She could not and would not put him into that position. Ditto Janet. Daniel would be useless - he wasn't military and he would just tell her to come home where he'd... make her a mug of coffee and tell her it'll be fine. Well it wasn't going to be fine. She wasn't an idiot. She was in trouble, trouble of her own making. Correction: she was an idiot. This was the stupidest damn thing she'd ever done. 

'' Your energy is astonishing. It doesn't surprise me that you're such an effective member of the SGC.'' 

Sam stopped abruptly and glared at him. '' Where did you come from?'' 

'' I rented a room. I've been watching you from up there for the past half hour.'' Both of them glanced up to the white painted building behind them, where several windows looked down into the car park. '' I imagine you called O'Neill.'' 

She looked down at the cell phone clenched tightly in her fist. '' He wasn't there. I got... his wife.'' Why was she telling him this? 

Maybourne smiled, tilted his head to the side. '' Shame. Of course, they can trace that, you know.'' He held out his hand. '' Best give it to me.'' 

Not listening to her instincts, Sam handed over the cell phone. He pocketed it. '' What now?'' 

'' Now, a road trip. Bathroom break's not for another two hours. You might want to go before we leave. Your bag's in the front of the car.'' He nodded to the pickup truck. 

She watched him amble over to the truck, and wondered if she was insane. 

Hey, that was an idea. She could claim insanity. Mackenzie was sure to back her up. 

So thinking, Samantha Carter said goodbye to her home of less than a month and walked over to work side by side with the enemy. 


	4. Chapter Four

Spoilers: 100 Days, Fire and Water, Watergate, Chain Reaction, 1969 

PG-13: Swearing 

A/N: This one seems to be filled with flashbacks. Huh. Oh well. Next time maybe you'll get some more plot. Jack will be coming soon I promise!! 

Flashbacks - Seems to me I'm fulfilling my own personal wish to get as many shippy missing scenes into eps as I possible can. *Giggle*. Ah, what the heck. Everyone has to have an aim? Right? 

Another disclaimer just for the hell of it: Stargate SG-1 is an original MGM, Greenburg/Anderson, Gekko, Top Secret, Kawoosh! production. Any material relating to Stargate SG-1 is for entertainment only, and is in no way meant as an infringement on copyrights. In other words, I own nadda. 

* 

* 

* 

_He, the object of three months intense slave labour, came barrelling through her office door only moments after she had finally decided that maybe, maybe, it was time to go home. In fact, his entrance took her by surprise and the papers she was holding in her hands slid to the floor, scattering like white leaves across the carpet. '' Oh, hi, sir,'' she said. Stupidly._

_He looked around her room, hands deep in his pockets. '' Carter... got a little.. messy, while I was gone.''_

_Gone. Such a short, simple word for where he'd been. Trapped, lost, away. From her._

_'' I picked up some bad habits from Daniel,'' she murmured as they both crouched down and started sweeping up the sheets into some kind of order. _

_'' We'll work on it,'' the Colonel assured her cheerfully._

_She shot him a look through her eyelashes, was relieved to see that he'd changed out of his Edoran clothes into a pair of jeans and a cream sweater_ _that showed off his tan. '' Going home, sir?''_

_His reply was jubilant. '' Yes!''_

_At least he sounded like he wanted to this time. '' Um, I know Daniel and Teal'c did a lot of cleaning but your cupboards might just be a little empty. Except for the coffee.''_

_'' Coffee? Oh, of course. Teal'c cleaned?''_

_'' He likes feather dusters, apparently.''_

_'' I don't have a feather duster.''_

_'' Daniel did.''_

_'' That's really... disturbing.''_

_She smiled at him, really smiled. This was the Colonel she had missed, she told herself firmly. The banter, the witty comebacks, the constant need to make situations ironic. Not the secret looks, the occasional touches, the shared smiles and that one particular expression that he only saved for....._

_Ah, God, it was happening again. Maybe Janet was right to be worried. Maybe what she'd thought of as just male-female attraction, a normal, healthy attraction for a man who was good and kind and passionate.... see? Who thought of their CO as passionate? Who?_

_Her. She did. Somewhere between blue dresses, rapid ageing, end-of-the-world, Tok'ra, Sam found herself... caring for him. In a way that, mindful of their positions and the command structure, really wasn't terribly appropriate. She'd even go so far, early, early one morning a few weeks ago, to look up **that** regulation in the regulations manual. _

_Then, of course, she'd thrown it across the room._

_The papers collected, they stood and he shuffled his collection over to her, smiling ever so slightly. He rubbed a hand underneath his nose, then toyed with his ear. Fidgeting. _

_'' Sir?'' she asked, knowing he would have had some reason to come to see her, whatever flimsy it may be._

_'' Sam, I-''_

_Sam? When was the last time he'd called her that? Somehow, it made her extremely nervous. '' Colonel, is something wrong?'' Other than, you know, the fact that you were SLEEPING with some woman while she was working her ass off to get him home. Did he know how much weight she had lost? Did he think the grey look was in for skin colour this year? She'd felt sick when he'd been gone, did he know that? Did he know that she'd missed him so much she'd felt sick? _

_No, he didn't. And he'd never know. She'd make damn sure of it._

_'' No. Well, not with me. I'm glad to be home, Sam,'' he said, heavily._

_She stared at him. '' Good. That's... good, sir.''_ _She deliberately emphasised the 'sir'_. 

_O'Neill continued to fidget, moving from foot to foot. '' I didn't... I hope I didn't give you the impression... Laira was... this woman....''_

_'' Observant of you, Colonel.''_

_His mouth twitched. '' You do know what I'm trying to say, don't you?''_

_Honestly? She thought he was trying to apologise for his initial reaction to returning home, but there was no way she was going to let him go this easily. He had hurt her, and that scared her more than anything. If he could hurt her, then the feelings she had for him were deeper than they should be. '' I have no idea.''_

_'' Oh, for... Thank you!''_

_She grinned. '' Hard was it? Next time, you could write it on a piece of paper, slide it under my door and avoid all speech whatsoever.''_

_He had the grace to blush slightly. '' I'm crap with words, Carter, you know that.''_

_She sniffed, privately pleased that he'd even bothered. 2IC were supposed to rescue their COs. It was part of the job. Admittedly, 2IC were supposed to do it out of duty and respect, not confusingly strong emotions akin to the L-word. '' I think you're catching up with Daniel, though.''_

_'' Huh?''_

_'' Woman on every planet?''_

_'' Why you little... oi! Carter, come back here so I can give you a reprimand! Carter!_

_*_

The file Maybourne had prepared for her was full of snippets from Ancient Egyptian mythology books and they painted a pretty attractive picture of the 'goddess' she was helping him to capture. 

'' What are you going to do with her once you've got her?'' 

'' I was thinking of maybe buying back my way into the programme.'' 

She glanced at him sharply. With Maybourne, that could mean any number of things. God knew what was going on in the small world where the Stargate was general knowledge. '' Which programme?'' 

He smiled and glanced in the rear view mirror. '' Do you really want to know?'' 

Yes, actually, she did, but she had a feeling she wasn't going to find it out from him. For now, she'd go along with the ride, make the decisions that would have to be made once she had more information. She had no intention of trusting him completely. 

Maybourne reached out and tapped the folder. '' Read up, Major. I want you to know everything that's in that file.'' 

'' It reads like one of Daniel's reports,'' she muttered. 

'' That's because Dr Jackson wrote it.'' 

She blinked. '' What?'' 

'' Dr Jackson has written files on each and every major and minor god and goddess in Egyptian mythology. Each SG leader is supposed to be at least familiar with every file, should the information be useful.'' Maybourne chuckled. '' I can't imagine Colonel O'Neill spending much time reading, however.'' 

'' He doesn't need to. We've got Daniel,'' she pointed out defensively. 

'' And Dr Jackson's penchant for dying doesn't bother you?'' 

Sam turned to look out of the window, haunted. 

* 

_'' I'm sure Hammond understands that the car window just needed to go.''_

_Colonel O'Neill stared up at her from his prone position on his deck, eyes narrowed, hand shielding his eyes from the sunlight. '' What are you doing here?''_

_She tilted her head to the side, noted the bags under his eyes and empty bottles of beer sitting on the outside table. '' I should think that was obvious, sir. I came to see you.''_

_Carefully, as if his back was hurting, he edged his way into sitting and looked with some surprise about his deck. '' I think... I fell asleep.''_

_'' You think?''_

_'' I think, Carter. I'm drunk, Carter,'' he pointed out heavily._

_She smiled faintly, her heart heavy from the loss of Daniel and the fear that her Colonel wasn't going to recover from that loss. '' Yes. I can see that.'' Her hand reached out, unbidden, and brushed a hand over his hair. She was surprised when he reached up, caught her hand and pressed it to his lips. Her heart leapt, while her conscience wept. '' Sir?''_

_'' Wanna sit with me?'' He was already pulling her down onto her knees - awkward considering her dress - and holding her hand tightly in his, so tightly that once she had finally sat, all he had to do was give it a good yank and she fell into him. _

_Sam couldn't help the yelp that she let loose when he tipped back onto the deck, arms around her, and she ended up half sprawled on top of him. '' God, Colonel...''_

_'' Shh. Listen.''_

_She sighed against his chest and turned her head to the side. He was drunk, she told herself - hopefully he wouldn't remember what he'd done the next day. '' To what?''_

_'' I don't know. It seemed a good way to shut you up.''_

_'' Oh, for crying out..'' Then she clamped her mouth shut, risked peeking a look up at his face. He didn't seem to have noticed, thank goodness, that she'd let slip one of his favourite phrases._

_'' Daniel's dead,'' he said eventually._

_A tingling began behind her eyes so she closed them quickly. '' Yes.''_

_'' He's dead.''_

_'' I know!''_

_'' I can't believe... I mean... Daniel.''_

_Despite his garbled words, she couldn't help but agree. Of all of them, it seemed unlikely that he would be the one to die first. '' I know,'' she sighed, one of her arms coming up to wrap around his rib cage. She could feel his hand on the small of her back, his fingers circling lightly. She didn't think he was aware of doing it. _

_'' I want a drink.''_

_She guessed that meant he wanted to move, so she started to sit up. _

_'' Hey! Where are you going?''_

_She stared into his panicked eyes. '' You said you wanted...''_

_'' I want a drink, but I need you.'' He shook his head at her, like she'd done something silly, and pulled her back down, this time both his arms coming around her. '' I'm not letting you go.''_

_Clearly, he was far more drunk that she'd previously thought. The way he'd said that, it had almost been... well, almost desperate. '' Okay, Colonel,'' she promised, resting her head over his heart, '' I'm not going anywhere.''_

* 

Three hours of driving, break, three hours of driving, break, three hours of driving, break. He was like a damn machine, Sam couldn't help but think as she climbed back into the passenger seat of the truck. She looked at him for any signs of tiredness, any sign at all that this pace was knocking him back, but all he did was smile at her, nod, and start the engine. 

They continued driving late into the night, with Sam dozing in and out of consciousness. They were heading back into Colorado, which had been something of a surprise. The Goa'uld was in the same state as the primary defence force - how ironic. 

'' Where are we going?'' 

'' It's a surprise.'' 

Sleepily, she leaned against the pillow she'd made with her folded sweater to protect her against the vibrations of the window. '' What happened to you, Maybourne? You were selling our secrets to the Russians.'' 

He snorted. '' Sure I was.'' 

'' You _were_,'' she pressed. 

Maybourne reached up to scratch at his five-o'clock-shadow. '' I need a shave. There's a motel up here where we'll be stopping for the night.'' 

Sam sighed; this was intolerable. 

'' Actually, I saw Colonel O'Neill rather more recently than you think.'' 

'' Did you?'' Sam tried to make her voice sound tired and wearily, as if she didn't care overmuch, when actually the opposite was true. 

'' Yes. How do you think he found out what was happening to your dear general?'' 

He could only be referring to one thing - General Hammond's enforced retirement. But the Colonel's details about that event were sketchy beyond belief, in fact he down right avoided the topic whenever it was raised. Was Maybourne suggesting it was Colonel O'Neill who had got him out of prison? 

Sam looked over at Maybourne. '' I don't believe you.'' 

'' He didn't tell you, then.'' 

'' He's my CO. He doesn't have to tell me anything.'' 

Maybourne smiled smugly. '' No, I can see that now. I would have thought you and him...'' He trailed off, alarmingly in Sam's mind. Surely he wasn't... Maybourne wasn't under the impression that... 

She so had to smooth this out with a reasonable explanation, providing what Maybourne was saying was actually true. '' Just because we're both military doesn't mean he tells me any more than Daniel, or Teal'c. In fact, I imagine he'd tell Daniel more than me for that very reason.'' Even if there were other reasons now for the Colonel's distance from her beyond protecting her career. 

Maybourne turned off the road, the truck bumping over uneven gravel as they entered another parking lot. '' Oh, look, vacancies. Aren't we lucky?'' 

Guess that was the end of the 'conversation', then. 

Maybourne forked out for adjoining rooms, engaging the woman at the front desk in animated conversation. Not having the energy to pay attention to his lies, Sam wandered away, her eyes running around the small, dark reception. There was a soda dispenser over by the wall and she shoved in a few coins and got herself a Coke, glancing out of the dark window and seeing very little beyond dark shapes. She wondered how the night was going at the bar. 

This was so surreal - any moment now, she was positive several armed Air Force officers (okay, so she had a really good imagination) were going to come flying through the window, accusing her of siding with a criminal and she'd be jailed for life. The Colonel would visit her once, at Christmas, and tell her he'd never loved her anyway. Daniel would refuse to speak to her. Her father would disown her. And Janet and Cassie would sob through the glass. 

Yeah right. 

Maybourne dangled a key in front of her, its bright yellow plastic tag blurring in front of her tired eyes. '' Yours. I got you a single bed. Hope you don't mind.'' 

Oh no. She was used to it. 

* 

_Muttering to himself, Colonel O'Neill rolled onto his side and sighed. '' How come camping off-world is more comfortable than camping... on-world?''_

_Since Sam was the only one awake, her mind still on camp fires and solar flares, she answer, '' I don't know, sir. It's probably just psychological.'' She dragged her eyes away from the fire and looked at him. '' So. How cool is this?''_

_He smiled, knowing exactly what she was talking about. '' Back to the past. Very cool, Carter, very cool. 1969. Never thought I'd see it again.'' The Colonel glanced at her sharply. '' I guess... Daniel being four you'd be....?''_

_'' My date of birth is in my file, Colonel.''_

_He made a disgusted noise, waved a hand at her. '' I never read files, Carter, you know that. They're too closely related to 'reports'.''_

_She rolled her eyes. '' At this very moment I am about seven and a half months old.''_

_'' Holy Shit!''_

_Sam giggled furiously, tucking her head into her arm as her CO swore fruitfully._

_'' And I thought four was bad! You're not even a year old!''_

_'' I'm sorry, sir, if that upsets you.''_

_'' *Upsets* me? I'm travelling the universe with children!'' He threw up his hands. _

_Daniel groaned and rolled onto his back, obviously woken by the Colonel's outrage. '' Jack, you know full well that Teal'c is old enough to be your grandfather.''_

_'' Great-grandfather, O'Neill,'' Teal'c added, joining in the conversation._

_'' See, Jack? Does that make you feel better?''_

_'' Sarcasm, Daniel, is the lowest form of wit,'' the Colonel said through his teeth. He directed a glare at Sam. '' Couldn't you have lied or something?''_

_'' Lie, Colonel? To you?''_ _she said sweetly._

_'' Ah, crap, I'd forgotten you were the honest type. God. What I wouldn't give for a little deception right now.''_

* 

The next morning, Sam awoke, the words of her Colonel ringing in her ears. Somehow, she couldn't quite believe he'd feel the same way now. 


	5. Chapter Five

Spoilers: Prodigy, In the Line of Duty, Children of the Gods 

PG-13: For no reason whatsoever 

A/N: Research for Egyptian Gods and Goddesses comes off the Internet, of course. The stuff quoted in here comes from this site: http://members.aol.com/egyptart/amun.html but I added/removed/changed bits to make it 'Daniel worthy'. 

In this chapter, the plot goes nowhere. I mean, the characters go nowhere. Aw, you'll see. 

* 

* 

* 

Sam brushed her teeth and propped the Mut file up against the back of the sink so she could digest all the information available as she washed. 

**_Mut was the divine mother, the queen of all gods. She was the female counterpart of Amun (see attached notes). Mut usurped many of the other Egyptian goddess that exhibited the attributes of motherhood. During the New Kingdom, The marriage of Mut and Amun was one of the great annual celebrations. Amun would be brought from his temple at Karnak, a great following would escort him to visit Mut at her temple at Luxor. In spite of her marriage to Amun, Mut was bisexual, perhaps to reinforce her position as the mother of all things. Her hieroglyphic symbol was a vulture, it was worn on the crowns of Egypt's queens to typify their motherhood - see diagram, as possible Jaffa would wear a variation of this symbol._**

Well, that was all very interesting, but it didn't really tell Sam much about the modern day Goa'uld who will have taken on a rather different persona to the one she may have had in ye olde times. On the other hand, this 'queen of all gods' thing was just a tad worrying. Having come across the ones that were supposedly simply gods of the dead, or sex, drugs and rock n' roll, and experiencing first hand their particular powers, it was a little unnerving to be potentially meeting the one so called 'the divine mother'. 

A knock on the adjoining door had Sam spitting out the toothpaste in the sink and calling out, '' I'm coming!'' before filling her mouth with water and gargling. When she was done, she flicked a small towel from the handrail and hurried to the door. 

Maybourne, already dressed in yet another ubiquitous outfit, greeted her by holding out a duo of green apples and a carton of orange juice. '' Breakfast.'' 

She took the food and put it aside on a table. '' Are we leaving? Already?'' 

'' I'm up. You're up. I see no reason to stall. The quicker we get there, the faster we can set this up. I have a new file for you.'' From behind his back he pulled out a black file with a white stripe down its side. When she reached for it, he swiftly pulled it out of the way. '' This is your new persona.'' 

'' What's wrong with my old persona?'' She shook her head. '' I mean, me?'' 

'' We're back in Colorado, Sam, in case you haven't noticed. You need to take on a low profile. Don't want you getting caught before you have a chance to do your good deed. You'll keep your first name, if it's any help.'' 

He dropped the file on the floor, and then closed the door. '' Five minutes!'' he called. 

God, he was worse than Colonel O'Neill when it came to timekeeping, she thought grumpily, bending down and picking up the file. Deciding she would save that delight for the journey, she tossed it on the bed and went back into the bathroom to give her skin a good going over. All this deception was making her feel dirty. 

It took her little time to pack, but Maybourne was at the truck before she was, impatiently sitting in the front seat. He didn't say anything, however, just started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot. 

Sam sipped her orange juice, munched her apple, and started on her 'new persona' file. 

_Name: Samantha Maria Clorel_

'' Clorel!'' she exclaimed. 

'' I thought it would be nicely ironic. I imagine she'll associate the name with Klorel as well.'' 

'' Are you sure that's a good idea?'' 

'' You mean, am I being an idiot? 

Sam knew she'd regret that quip, even if it had sounded pretty good at the time, almost worthy of Colonel O'Neill. Even if he had been a... giant bug at the time. '' No, I mean... you don't know what her relationship with Apophis was like.'' 

'' That'll be for you to find out, then, won't it? Just think, you can get the Goa'uld gossip firsthand.'' 

'' Oh Jesus.'' 

_Age: 30. _

Hey, cool, she was thirty again. 

_Date of Birth: 28/12/70. _

Fine. She could manage that. 

_Parents deceased._

'' How did they die?'' 

'' Mysteriously.'' 

Naturally, Sam thought. '' Of course. Any relation to my mysterious blackouts?'' 

He smiled. '' Yes. Notice the date.'' Reaching across, he tapped with surprising accuracy the date of 'her parents' deaths. Six months ago. You were visiting them, fell asleep upstairs in your room. When you came downstairs they were dead. Necks broken. A complete mystery. Their deaths are part of the reason you're having this personal crisis.'' 

She stared at him blankly. '' Personal crisis.'' 

'' Yes. I thought you could put a little of your own emotion behind the character.'' 

Again, blank expression. '' Character.'' 

'' You've never gone undercover before, have you?'' 

'' Maybourne, my whole life is undercover. I barely know who _I_ am.'' 

Huh. Never before had she realised how true that statement was. Classified work had long since stopped being the all-round big special secret it had been when she'd been in her twenties. It had long since stopped being fun. You went into that mountain and that was your life - when you came out, that entire part of your life was locked away. And it was a big part. 

They were quiet for a while, the nonsense on the radio filling the void where talk should have been. Therefore, it was a surprise when Maybourne finally spoke, and it was in no way related to the job at hand, '' Why exactly did you go AWOL? I mean, it's a little out of character for you, don't you think?'' 

Sam stared out of the window. '' How would you know, Maybourne?'' 

'' I know a lot more than you think. Kerrigan brought you to the attention of the higher powers almost the moment you stepped through the Academy doors.'' 

She glanced at him sharply. This was the first she'd heard of it - General Kerrigan and she hadn't exactly got on in the first couple of terms. Her tendency to fall asleep in lectures and argue with her superiors having something to do with it. At least she made up for it in her later years - funny what a few years of maturity could do previously troubled relationships. 

'' I suppose you've had a tough couple of years,'' he mused. '' But it just doesn't run true to me. Everyone in SG-1 has had a bad couple of years. It's not like you're being picked on.'' 

She faked an interest in her file, unwilling to comment. 

'' Getting snaked must have been a real blast, though.'' 

* 

_Sam was crushed in an SG-1 sandwich. She didn't quite recall how it had happened. One moment Janet was saying Sam could have a couple of visitors now that there appeared to be no apparent effects from... from..._

_.... the next thing she knew, Daniel was perching on her right, the Colonel was perching on her left and Teal'c was hovering, actually hovering, in concern for her. _

_Daniel brought chocolates. He'd snuck them in under his shirt, crab-walking past Janet so she didn't see_ _and then stuffing them under Sam's pillow as soon as Janet's back was turned. Teal'c had brought her some tabloid magazines, the kind that detailed all sorts of alien conspiracies, and he'd highlighted the ones that he thought should be brought to the attention of the SGC._

_The Colonel had bashfully told her that he hadn't got her a present and Sam had to stop herself from telling him that he was quite enough of a present as himself. _

_So while Daniel had picked up one of the tabloid magazines and was laughingly debating its merits with Teal'c, the Colonel nudged her shoulder with his and taken her hand in one of his large ones. '' How you feeling?'' he'd asked, softly._

_Sitting so close to her, his warm body thawing her chilled one, Sam couldn't help but feel the distinct prickle of intimacy that was probably a little too friendly for CO and 2IC. '' Well.... honestly?''_

_He nodded, squeezed her hand. '' Of course.''_

_'' It was probably the worst thing that's ever happened to me.''_

_The Colonel winced. '' Yeah. I guessed as much. Um, do you... remember anything?''_

_'' I remember... everything. But it was kinda like a dream, like I was watching from a distance.'' MacKenzie hadn't gotten as much out of her as the Colonel was. Funny that. '' He, the symbiote, didn't let me... I mean, he was crushing me.'' She swallowed hard, and with her free hand reached around him to grab her glass of water. Her sore throat had yet to let up; it remained a constant reminder of what had just happened to her._

_'' Did it... tell you anything?''_

_'' No... and yes. Sometimes I would get these flashes, almost like he forgot I was there. And then.. now... '' Now, sitting at the back of her neck, the body of the symbiote was dying, being absorbed into her body. Right then. Right there._

_She gulped from the glass and felt a fine tremble run through her body. _

_Don'tthinkaboutthesnakedon'tthinkaboutthesnake._

_'' Sam?'' He leaned forward, briefly pressed his forehead against her temple, then drew back. '' You'll get through this. We'll be here for you. It will never get any worse than this.''_

_Strangely, that was comforting._

* 

What could she tell him? It wasn't the job that was getting her down - okay, it sure didn't help much. Getting snaked, zapped, brainwashed, occasionally killed, copied, downloaded.... she tried to get over each event one by one but things like that never really went away. 

Then there was Him. 

'' What's wrong with losing it?'' she asked softly. '' What's so bad about that? Why do I have to be strong all the time? Where does it say that?'' 

Maybourne looked at her, taking his eyes off the road for too long a span of time. '' It doesn't say that anywhere, Major. Do you know what the therapy bills amount to in the SGC? Do you know how many specialist staff had to be shipped in just so we could have on-hand doctors with the clearance suitable to deal with the issues the SG teams brought back with them? Seeing aliens on a regular basis isn't a healthy life. I'm not condemning you.'' 

He wasn't? '' You're not?'' 

'' No.'' He laughed. '' I'm just surprised you didn't go about it in a more intelligent manner. A person with your skills and aptitude could have at least faked her death or something if you were serious about giving it all up. Then you could have worked in that bar until you were one-hundred-and-two and no one would be any the wiser.'' 

Sam swallowed. 

'' The fact that you didn't... I should imagine, subconsciously, you always intended to go back.'' He smiled. '' We're going to Denver, though I suppose you've already worked it out. I was thinking of having MacDonalds for lunch. Sometimes, a Big Mac can go down really well.'' 

Maybourne liked MacDonalds. Who would have thought. 

Surreal didn't really cover it. 

* 

_'' Oooh, burgers....'' Colonel O'Neill looked longingly out of the window at the fast food restaurant bar, still in 'Homer' mode. He did quite a good impression, actually, but Sam knew Daniel was pissed off at him and she didn't want to be tarred with the same brush._

_Teal'c came out from behind his paper. '' Approximately how long will it take to reach our destination, Daniel Jackson?''_

_'' In other words, are we there yet?'' the Colonel demanded, leaning forward to look at Daniel, then Sam._

_Daniel glanced at Sam and rolled his eyes. '' Children.''_

_Sam grinned and looked down at the radio. '' Can I put this on?''_

_'' Sure, Sam.''_

_Happily toying with the radio dial, she found a station that she liked, and she knew Daniel liked. The groan from the back seats could only come from one person._

_'' This is an oldies station. How can you guys listen to this crap?''_

_Daniel's eyes moved to Sam again. '' I'm not kidding. I'm feeling like a parent. I'm not old enough to have a child that annoying.''_

_She giggled this time. '' He must get it from you. I was a perfect teenager.''_

_He looked at her shrewdly. '' Fear of failure?''_

_Casually, Sam nodded. '' Still going strong. You?''_

_'' Fear of rejection.''_

_'' Healthy.''_

_Colonel O'Neill leaned forward again. '' Will you two stop having a conversation amongst yourselves?''_

_'' Sorry, Jack. Feeling left out?'' Daniel reached forward to the dash board and plucked a boiled sweet from the bag he'd brought. '' Here you go.''_

_Grumbling, the Colonel took the sweet anyway and sat back. '' I want to drive on the way home.''_

_'' Fine. Teal'c can sit in the front as well.''_

_'' I prefer to sit in the back, Daniel Jackson. There is more room for my legs.''_

_'' Fine. Jack and Sam can be the parents on the way home.'' Daniel shook his head. '' Man, I am never, ever doing this again.''_


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 is an original MGM, Greenburg/Anderson, Gekko, Top Secret, Kawoosh! production. Any material relating to Stargate SG-1 is for entertainment only, and is in no way meant as an infringement on copyrights. In other words, I own nadda. 

Spoilers: Seth, The First Commandment, Cold Lazarus. 

Rating: PG-13 

A/N: Oh! Oh! Jack's nearly here! 

* 

* 

* 

_Jonas's memorial service was held outside the SGC so his family could attend. Sam went_, _of course. Jonas's mother had phoned up, asked especially for her, said she'd always wished Sam could have been her daughter-in-law._

_It rained._

_By the time she got back home, Sam was drenched, despite her raincoat and umbrella. She stripped off her clothes steadily as she walked from front door to her bedroom, then she stood under the scalding hot shower and cried for her ex-fiancé._

_Three messages on her answer machine: Daniel, Colonel O'Neill_, _Colonel O'Neill._

_She smiled slightly at the last message - '' Captain, if you don't take tomorrow off I'll lock you in the trunk of my car and abandon you in Utah.''_

_Utah? she thought, shaking her head. The guy was nuts._

_She picked up the phone and called Daniel, just for a chat. She'd gotten to really like Doctor Jackson over the past few months and at the moment she felt he, at least, would have some empathy with how she was feeling. Then again, he was still in love with his missing wife, whereas her feelings for Jonas had long since reached that stage of ambiguous confusion. _

_'' Sam? Hey, how are you?''_

_'' Fine.'' She pulled her robe-covered legs up onto the sofa and stared down at her bare toes. Knowing herself, she would have painted them four colours by the end of the evening and then resorting once again to her normal nude look. Besides, it was kinda against regulations. '' His memorial service was today.''_

_'' Yeah. Was it... all right?''_

_Leaning forward, Sam picked up a couple of magazines that were lying on the floor and she threw them onto the coffee table. '' About as all right as a memorial service can be when the person you're remembering is your ex-fiancé, Daniel,'' she said dryly._

_'' I'm sorry, Sam, that was...''_

_'' No, no, Daniel, it's not your fault. Anything exciting happen at work today?''_

_'' Changing the subject already?''_

_'' I just want to talk to someone about something... normal, for a change.''_

_'' Normal? SGC normal?'' He laughed, and she joined in. '' Oh, Jack just came in.''_

_'' That's nice, Daniel.''_

_She could hear murmuring in the background, then, '' He says 'hi'. No, actually, now he wants to talk to you.''_

_She raised her eyebrows, but didn't have a chance to question what her CO wanted to talk to her about, because he was already on the other end, '' Carter?''_

_'' Sir, I got your messages.''_

_'' Good - just checking. So we won't be seeing you tomorrow.''_

_Sam grinned at the half-order in his statement. '' No, sir.''_

_'' Atta girl.'' He sounded pleased and she told herself it was because he was concerned for her. '' Want to speak to Daniel again?''_

_'' No, it's all right. Tell him goodbye and I'll see you all the day after tomorrow.''_

_'' Okay. See ya, Carter.''_

_'' You too, Colonel.''_

_*_

The phone was just sitting there. 

Maybourne had left only thirty-five minutes before, according to the loudly ticking clock on the wall. Dropped her off in the apartment, given her the keys and a cute, mocking salute, and said he'd see her around. Like he was James Bond, or something. 

Sam automatically pictured Maybourne in a tux and shuddered. _Shaken, not stirred._

So very, very wrong. 

Once she'd investigated every inch of the apartment - and, let's face it, there weren't many inches to it - and made sure there wasn't a bug, camera or anything else, she'd sat down to take a moment for herself. To collect, so to speak. Here she was, Samantha Carter, in an apartment rented by Maybourne (or not?), with a file just by her knees that depicted her new identity. 

It was a tiny apartment but, frankly, she'd seen worse. Hell, she'd lived in worse. In the corner, there was what someone would no doubt claim to be a 'kitchenette' - a stove, a stainless steel sink, small refrigerator/freezer, and a microwave. The patch of linoleum around that area separated it from the vaguely blue carpet of the rest of the room. In the far corner, by the window, was a queen sized bed, a bedside table with a lamp. Against the other wall was the living area, where Sam was sitting. One sofa, one sofa chair, and a coffee table. 

Already, Sam was mentally redecorating. The place needed shelves. Pine ones. Books. A TV, for God's sake. A nice rug, something colourful. Better curtains that, you know, blocked out the streetlights rather than just dispersed the light slightly. 

The phone was still there. 

She wished she had her laptop. Or a computer, even. Any computer. Somehow the place would look more like somewhere where Sam Carter might live. Even if she'd lived in places like this in her earlier twenties. Actually, she and Jonas had shared a place only a little bigger than this. Their first place, all they could really afford considering Jonas's tendency to seriously blow his money when out with his friends. Back then, of course, being young and immortal, Sam had thought it exciting, fun, dangerous. And Jonas had certainly been that last thing. 

Thinking of Jonas made her miserable; it always did. Just the sound of his name brought up memories, both good and bad, that Sam had learnt not to dwell upon. Age and practise had taught her that the best men were the ones who could make you feel like they were dangerous when inside they were responsible, respectful, kind and passionate. Perfect. 

Pouncing, Sam grabbed her cell from the coffee table. Maybourne had to have left it there for her deliberately and she wasn't too keen to know the reason why. 

Fumbling, she switched it on, waited in agony. She dialled the Colonel's home number as soon as she could and stood up, nimbly avoiding the unfamiliar coffee table. She walked away from the windows, towards the door as the phone rang. And rang. And rang. 

Then it stopped. Sam held her breath. 

Someone cleared his throat. '' O'Neill.'' 

So overcome for a moment by the sound of his voice, Sam felt her knees weaken. She was unable to speak. 

'' Hello?'' 

'' Colonel,'' she managed on an out-breath. 

'' Carter? Carter, is that you?'' 

'' Hi.'' There it was again. The word that she never meant to say. '' Hi, how are you?'' She turned against the wall, pressing her forehead against the pale paint and wishing she wasn't such an idiot. 

'' How am I? _How am I?_'' Colonel O'Neill raged in ascending tones. '' How the hell do you think I am, Carter? My fucking second in command disappears off the face of the earth and you're asking my how I am?'' 

'' I know, it's a stupid question. I'm in Denver. Maybourne...'' 

'' Maybourne!'' 

She laughed, stupidly. '' Maybourne. God, I'm killing myself here, do you know? This is so not who I am. I don't know why I even called you. God knows what you're going to do now. I'm sorry, Colonel. It's an awful situation to put you in.'' She slid down the wall, giving in, finally, to her legs' protests. Somehow she felt like she could deal with the situation a whole lot better on the floor. 

'' Where are you? Denver? Where in Denver? I'll come and get you.'' 

'' No, no, you can't. I've got.... work.'' Sam smiled foolishly, wished she could tell him that his voice was making her insides squirm, that she'd like it more than anything for him to ride to the rescue and take her home with him. 

Sara. 

She was sure there was a tactful way to bring the topic up. For her, his second in command, to demand the reason for his ex-wife being at his home. 

She was sure there was. It was just the Sam didn't know it. 

'' I... called before.'' 

'' What? When?'' he said, his voice distracted. 

'' Day before yesterday. No, yesterday.'' She shook her head. '' It's getting confusing. Your wife picked up.'' Damn, she'd missed out the 'ex'. Perhaps it was a sign. 

On the other end of the line, however, there was a distinct, definite pause. 

'' Right.'' 

No denial. No instant claims that she 'had just dropped by'. Just an acceptance. 

Sam waited that extra beat longer, mentally pleading with him to make up some pathetic excuse just so she could agree with him and they could move on. 

But he didn't. 

'' Carter, I want to see you.'' 

She was shaking her head, then realised he couldn't see her. '' You can't. Do you know.... Maybourne told me that there's a warrant out for me now.'' 

'' You're AWOL. At first we thought... maybe you'd got hurt. But some of your clothes were gone. Your car. A neighbour of yours saw you leave suddenly that night. Why the hell did you leave?'' he hissed. 

'' You forget my birthday.'' 

Sam cringed, pulling the phone away from her ear. She couldn't believe she'd just said that. That had been the last thing she'd wanted to say. What was she? Fifteen? That was the year her father had forgotten too. A running theme, it seemed. 

When she put the phone back to her ear, he was speaking again. '' - didn't.'' 

'' Sorry?'' 

'' I said, I didn't.'' 

'' Yes, you did.'' 

'' No, I didn't,'' he repeated quietly. '' I kept waiting for someone to say something. I've got your damn present here, for God's sake. But no one said anything and I didn't want to be... the one.'' 

'' You didn't want to make the first move,'' Sam said coldly. 

'' No.'' 

Well, there was only one thing to say to that, then, wasn't there? 

'' You _bastard_.'' 

She could almost hear him run his hand through his hair. '' Carter, you know why I.... you know,'' was all he could say. 

'' Oh, come on. A damn birthday present. You could have left it on my desk, for crying out loud.'' 

'' I wanted to give it to you face to face.'' 

'' But you didn't give it to me. You let me think... '' Were these tears? she thought wildly, a hand going to her face to touch the strands of wetness. Good God, was she crying now? '' It's not fair.'' 

'' No, it's not fair. Tell me where you are.'' 

'' Some tiny apartment. With no bathroom,'' she added, suddenly noticing. '' Damn. I don't think I have a bathroom.'' 

'' You've only just got there?'' 

'' Well, yeah, Maybourne only came and enrolled me......'' Too late, she thought, sucking in a breath. Where the hell had that Air Force mentality gone? She was just blurting out random, stupid things now. Hell, if she did go back, they'd have to send her to boot camp. 

On the other end of the line, the Colonel was carefully sorting out his words. '' I'll come to you. I won't tell anyone,'' he said in deceptively calm tones. 

'' Not even Daniel and Teal'c?'' 

'' I can't anyway. We're on downtime for another two weeks. Teal'c's off on Chulak. Daniel's practically living on base, and besides, he's not speaking to me.'' 

'' He's not? Why?'' 

He ignored her. '' Tell me where you are. I can be there in about an hour and a half.'' 

She swallowed, looked around the room. '' I don't know where you're gonna sleep,'' she said pathetically. 

'' I'll bring a sleeping bag. _Tell me where you are_.'' 

Sam crawled forward, her boots dragging on the carpet as she pulled the file towards herself. Flicking open the first page, she read off the address quickly, before she changed her mind. 

'' Okay. I'll be there soon. Stay right where you are. Don't move.'' 

'' Colonel?'' 

'' Yeah?'' 

'' Can you bring some food? Chips or something?'' 

For the first time, he laughed almost inaudibly. '' I'll bring food.'' 

He had no idea how good that laugh made her feel. '' Bye,'' she whispered. 

'' I'll see you soon.'' 

They hung up. Sam even turned her cell off. Actually, as she was looking at it, though it was the same make as her cell, it wasn't actually the same phone. It was brand new. The screen wasn't scratched, the buttons weren't worn. The flap opened smoothly. Could it be that Maybourne had got her a new cell so she couldn't be traced? That seemed almost... trustworthy. Like this was the real thing. 

Nervously, Sam looked at the folders sitting on the coffee table. More information. More clues. 

The real thing. 

There was a Goa'uld out there. 

* 

_'' This is new. Who are they?''_

_She didn't look up from her computer screen, her mind still running over the figures, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. There must have been some variable that she had missed out, or had changed over the past three days. '' Who are what?''_

_His fingers snapped in front of her face. '' Carter, attention, please.''_

_Rolling her eyes, she dragged her attention from the screen, swivelling on her stool to look at him. '' What is it, sir?'' The 'sir' only just making the question respectful. She didn't know what the hell he was doing there, but it had become a recurring theme in the past couple of months. He'd drop by for no apparent reason and just linger... ask her questions, touch things, generally be a pain in the ass._

_He probably did it deliberately, just to get out of doing paperwork._ _And no doubt with Daniel, too. It wasn't as if she was special_. 

_Colonel O'Neill grinned that smile that had been known to charm nurses out of the big needles. It had a similar effect on Sam, though she chose to put it down to the fact that her father and the Colonel shared some... character traits. He pointed to something on the wall questioningly._

_Sam leaned a little to her right and smiled. '' My niece and nephew.''_

_'' You have a niece and nephew?''_

_She nodded. '' Yes. My brother's children.''_

_'' You have a *brother?*''_

_Again with the nodding._

_'' How did I not know this?''_

_She opened her mouth to say she had told him once, but realised, actually, she hadn't. She'd told Jack O'Neill II. '' My brother and I haven't spoken since before his children were born.''_ __

_The Colonel put his hands in his pockets. '' I guess I figured you were an only child. Like me.''_

_Sam shook her head. '' No. My father and my brother don't get on. He.. blames, blamed, I don't know, Dad for my mother's death. So does my dad, but that's not the point. He never really forgave Dad for putting the Air Force before us. The mission with Seth - you remember?''_

_'' It was only last week, Carter,'' he said dryly. He tapped the side of his head. '' Brains not that far gone.''_

_She blushed a little. She hadn't meant it like that. '' Selmak requested the mission - she wanted Dad to mend his relationship with Mark.'' She flicked a smile at her CO. '' Said it was irritating her.''_

_Colonel O'Neill smiled again, this time a less exuberant, slightly more sensitive version. '' The trip to San Diego?''_

_She hadn't thought he'd have noticed that, but then, he always noticed more than he let on. It was probably a training technique - let the enemy underestimate you. Though, thinking about it, she wasn't the enemy, was she? _

_'' To see Mark and his family. Clare, his wife, sent that to me. They're pretty great.''_

_'' Cute. The girl looks like you.''_

_'' Uh-huh. Talks like me too. Bigger words than her brother and won't shut up.'' _

_He laughed, hands in his pockets as he looked at the photo she'd tacked to her wall. '' The boy looks like your dad.''_

_'' It's the eyes. He has Carter eyes. Everyone on the Carter side does, except for me. Mom's genes won out in my case.''_

_'' Charlie had brown eyes.'' He said so calmly, so matter-of-fact, that Sam didn't immediately connect._

_'' Brown eyes are dominant,'' she said automatically. She'd been thinking a lot about family in the past few days, going through old photo albums at home, with her dad, and by herself when he'd gone. _

_Then she realised what he'd said. _

_Somehow, Colonel O'Neill voluntarily giving information up about his son, seemed to be a major breakthrough in their relationship. _

_Hell, it had only taken them three years to get to this stage. Who knew, in another three years, where they would be?_


	7. Chapter Seven

Spoilers: Upgrades 

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 is an original MGM, Greenburg/Anderson, Gekko, Top Secret, Kawoosh! production. Any material relating to Stargate SG-1 is for entertainment only, and is in no way meant as an infringement on copyrights. In other words, I own nadda. 

* 

* 

* 

It probably said a lot about their relationship that for the first few minutes after he'd walked through the door, all they did was stare at each other. 

That was it. 

The awkwardness was familiar. In the weeks shortly after the armbands mess, they'd avoided each other like crazy, all the while aware that no one knew exactly why they were so jumpy. Their reports had been carefully worded, avoiding all mentions of near-declarations and near-suicides as the two had faced each other over the forcefield. 

Sam wanted to move forward, towards him. She wanted to put her arms around him and for him to do the same to her. She wanted more than anything to do that. 

She just couldn't. _Something_ stopped her, the same damn something that always stopped her from physically expressing her feelings for him. 

So, instead, she watched him, taking in every inch of his presence. He had a holdall over his shoulders, the brown leather of the bag merging into the soft brown leather of his jacket. There was a grocery bag under his other arm and from the top she could see a prominently displayed bag of chips. His hair was messy, his eyes were dark, and he seemed to have lost weight around his face. 

He looked wonderful. 

Again, more than anything, she wanted to walk forward and put her arms around him. To see if he felt as good as he looked. For the time being, that was as far as her fantasies went, but experience told her that would change quickly. 

Tentatively, Sam reached out with arms towards the bag. '' I'll put the groceries away.'' 

He nodded slightly and handed over the bag without their hands or arms brushing. His holdall slid down his arm and dropped down onto the floor with a loud thump and Sam backed away from him. Actually putting the groceries away seemed beyond her. She put them on the top of the microwave and then pushed her fingers into the back pockets of her trousers. 

'' You, um, want the tour?'' Sam suggested, trying to get a little humour into the situation. That usually worked with him. 

Colonel O'Neill looked around. He didn't look amused. '' No bathroom.'' 

'' Actually, while I was waiting for you, I found the bathroom. I hadn't noticed...'' She stopped and decided to show him rather than tell him. Speaking seemed way too much of an effort, so she walked over to the right hand wall and showed him the faint outline of a door. The handle was a built in affair, which you had to pulled out with your fingertips. '' It's not much.'' 

In fact, it was probably the smallest bathroom she'd ever seen in her life. She imagined it had once been a closet. 

'' That's just... extraordinary,'' he said. 

Sam jumped, because he was a lot closer to her now than she was used to. She could practically feel him breathing down her neck - actually, she _wanted_ to feel him breathing down her neck. Okay, here came the slightly more heated fantasies. 

Seeming to sense her discomfort, he stepped back a couple of paces. '' Gonna be hard to find that in the dark.'' 

She hadn't thought that far ahead. She'd just been excited by the fact that she wouldn't have to share a bathroom with strangers. '' I'll put some glow-in-the-dark stickers on it or something.'' 

'' Genius,'' he said softly. 

She closed the door, heard the slight click as the lock took. Without turning around, she addressed him, '' Just how much trouble do you think I'm gonna be in, sir?'' 

'' I honestly don't know.'' He sighed and moved around. '' Carter, what the hell happened?'' 

Sam run her thumbnail down the door crack. '' You ever have a really bad day?'' 

'' Frequently.'' 

'' I had a really bad day, sir.'' 

'' Because we forgot your birthday? Major, that's no excuse.'' 

'' I know.'' She decided she would have to turn around and face him sometime, so now was as good as any time. '' I forgot my birthday too. I only realised when Mark left a message on my answer machine. I know it's hypocritical to be hurt when I didn't even remember, but there is it. I'm a fickle person.'' She shrugged. '' But that's not the reason I left. It was the last straw, I suppose.'' 

* 

__

_'' A *week*?'' _

_The Colonel looked horrified, and Sam found that she wasn't too emotionally shook up about him to smile. She didn't seem to feel as bad as he did about their enforced medical leave. The way she was feeling, she could sleep for a week and so it really wouldn't be a problem to be in the infirmary during that time._

_'' A week, Colonel. I want to keep an eye on you, make sure there are no after effects that haven't been mentioned to me.'' Dr Fraiser's tone of voice was almost uniformed calm, ordered, correct - but there was something in it that was just a little off. Like she was pissed off about something._

_Anise, Sam thought understandingly. Or Freya. Whatever. _

_Daniel was already lying on his bed, his glasses crooked on the pillow. He'd long since given up the battle to stay awake any longer to listen to Janet's lectures. One of the nurses started pulling the curtain around him._

_'' I suggest you all try to get some sleep.''_

_Sure, Sam thought, looking at the soft infirmary pillow. She could do that. In fact, her body was already leaning... leaning... oh. Falling._

_Janet chuckled softly. '' Sam - get undressed first. Your gown's on the end of your bed.'' _

_She nodded tiredly, pushing herself upright, her eyelids heavy. She yawned and glanced up at the Colonel. '' Aren't you tired?''_

_He looked tired, at least. The dark circles under his eyes and unusual, pale colour certainly suggested he was feeling the same after-effects as her and Daniel. _

_The Colonel stared across at her. Something in his eyes brought up thoughts that she knew she had to forget, so she looked down at her lap and blushed. Thankfully, the curtain was pulled around her before she had to give in and look at him again. _

_Sam fumbled her way into the draughty gown -wishing Janet would let them bring in their own sleep-wear considering the amount of time SG-1 spent in the infirmary - and managed to slid under the sheets. She expected to fall asleep immediately, expected that the moment she closed her eyes and the lights dimmed she'd just drop off into nothingness._

_The was what she expected._

_But nothing happened._

_For a long moment, Sam lay there, waiting. She could hear Daniel breathing heavily to her right, but she couldn't hear anything from her left._

_Slowly, Sam sat back up, every muscle in her body protesting. She slid her legs over the edge of the bed._

_'' Carter?'' he whispered._

_'' Yeah?''_

_'' You awake?''_

_She smiled faintly. '' No.''_

_'' You're lying to your commanding officer.''_

_Despite herself, she giggled. The curtain waved, then moved. He poked his head around. '' Good. You're decent. Well, sort of.'' He was looking at her legs._

_She looked down at the gown that was hoiked up her thighs. '' They're just not designed to be attractive,'' she sighed, mostly to herself._

_'' Looking pretty good from where I am.''_

_Her face flushed swiftly so she refused to look at him. _

_The Colonel came into her cubicle. She noticed *he* wasn't in his gown, but she was strangely relieved he was still in his uniform. Even if his T-shirt was hanging down to mid-thigh and his feet were bare. He had really nice feet, actually, Sam realised, getting a good look at them. _

_'' Carter. They're feet.''_

_Embarrassed, but really too tired to be bothered with it, she sighed. '' I'm so tired.''_

_'' You're not asleep, though.''_

_'' No. My brain's...'' She made a gesture with her hand to mimic what her brain was doing and he nodded understandingly. Then he came to sit down next to her on the bed._

_'' Um....''_

_She looked at him sharply. '' Oh God.''_

_'' Don't say things like that. I'm not going to jump you, for God's sake.''_

_Her eyes widened. '' I didn't think you would!''_

_Awkwardly, they both stared at the curtain._

_'' I just -''_

_'' Colonel, I -''_

_They both laughed the way people always did when they spoke at the same time._

_'' Sam I -''_

_'' Don't call me that,'' she said quickly._

_He winced. '' Christ, that was harsh.''_

_'' It is harsh. It's the way... it is. Sir, what happened...'' Oh God, now they were going to do it. They were going to have the conversation. The conversation she'd been trying to avoid for what seemed like the whole of their relationship._

_No._

_They. Did. Not. Have. A. Relationship._

_''... I didn't realise,'' he whispered._

_She closed her eyes. '' Didn't realise...?''_

_'' That... that the idea of losing you... would do that to me.''_

_She would have asked him 'do what to you?' but she knew the answer. She knew because he had frozen on the other side of the force field and shown more emotions than she had ever dreamed about._

_Sam kept her eyes shut - willing herself to forget the rush of hope that was rising up in her now. It had taken her months to perfect her from him. The moment she'd realised her feelings went beyond those respectable for a 2IC for her CO, Sam had started rebuilding. Moments alone were not to be spent dwelling on him. She was not to think about him at all in any way that wasn't appropriate because HE DID NOT FEEL THE SAME WAY._

_But now he did._

_'' It didn't happen.''_

_'' Carter -''_

_'' It didn't happen.'' She looked at him now, forcing him to understand that she couldn't deal with this right now. The way she was feeling, if they made any decisions now they would inevitably chose the wrong ones._

_'' It did happen,'' he hissed, leaning towards her._

_She longed to reach out and touch him. God, her heart ached for him so badly. '' Colonel, what would you have me do?''_

_'' Try to deny that it didn't drive you crazy knowing we couldn't reach each other,'' he said, his eyes literally *burning* her._

_She couldn't deny it and he knew it. '' Sir -''_

_His hands came up and covered her mouth. '' It didn't happen. Okay. I happen to agree with you on that one. God knows we're not in any kind of situation where.... Nothing happened. Get some rest, Major.'' He hopped off the bed and pushed through the curtain._

_Sam was left, once more, on the wrong side._

__

__* 

Whoever he was, he wasn't Colonel O'Neill, Sam thought, watching him. This wasn't a man she knew. He sat too cold, too detached on the sofa, reading through Maybourne's files, making notes in the margins. Everything about him was calm and relaxed - which went against everything she thought she knew about him. He was never calm and relaxed. 

'' Why are SG-1 on downtime?'' she asked, speaking for the first time in three quarters of an hour. 

He carried on reading, writing. 

'' Sir?'' 

'' SG-1 aren't on downtime,'' he responded. 

Her brows came together. He was deliberately being cryptic. She wished he'd just shout at her and get it the hell over with, instead of being so quiet. He had to be angry with her, and yet after the first initial outburst on the phone all he seemed to be was tired and withdrawn. Weary. 

Had she pushed him over the edge this time? Had she made it so that he could feel nothing for her? This time, was Major Carter not going to be forgiven? 

Disturbingly, Sam sort of felt like she deserved it. Like she deserved the worst sort of punishment for betraying him. 

'' Why isn't Daniel speaking to you?'' 

'' Because I pushed him through a window.'' 

Sam exclaimed, '' _What_?'' 

He continued writing. '' You heard me the first time.'' 

'' Holy Hannah, what did you do that for?'' 

Colonel O'Neill shook his head, closed the file and threw it onto the table. He turned his head and looked out of the window. It was pitch black, but she'd pulled back the curtains earlier to look down into the street. She wondered, distantly, what time it was. 

'' He wants you to get a job at this place. Check out the owner.'' 

'' Yeah.'' 

'' Why not just go in and grab her?'' 

Sam shrugged. '' Maybourne doesn't have the resources for that. Besides, I think he wants to keep it quiet. He'd going to use her for something - buying his way out of jail, probably.'' Which reminded her. '' Did you get him out in the first place?'' 

'' When are you planning on applying for a job?'' 

She paused because he hadn't answered her previous question, but one look at his closed up face told her she wasn't going to get anywhere with him. '' Tomorrow. I suppose... I suppose I better get some sleep.'' 

The unspoken question was whether or not he was going to stay there with her. He was perfectly capable of driving home, of finding a room at a motel. It was up to him. 

He was looking around the room. '' The sofa's too small for me. It might fit you though.'' 

She raised her eyebrows. '' You want me to sleep on the sofa?'' 

Normally, he would have smiled, but apparently they weren't doing normal today. '' Unless you want to share the bed,'' he replied bluntly. 

'' I'll sleep on the sofa.'' 

* 

_'' Left or right, Captain?''_

_Malevolently, she pointed to the right hand side - there weren't words to describe how she was feeling at the moment. Forced to spend the night with her CO in some horrible, dank, cold little room on some vile mattress that was no doubt *crawling* with lice, Sam was living what had to be a nightmare._

_If he could stop cracking jokes for one damn minute...._

_Turning their backs on each other, they started to strip. The rustle of clothing behind her told her he was undressing faster than she was and she hoped to hell he didn't turn around at any point._

_'' Decent yet?''_

_'' No, sir.''_

_'' Okay. Take your time, Carter.''_

_Grudgingly, she decided he was at least trying to be gentlemanly. But, God, if she'd known beforehand what sharing rooms meant, she would have asked to share with Dr Jackson. _

_Done, Sam cleared her throat and turned around. The Colonel turned also and they started to check the bed, looking at each other through their eyelashes. His sleepwear consisted of boxers and his T-shirt. Hers consisted of shorts and her T-shirt and she'd also removed her bra through her sleeve._

_'' No bed bugs,'' he announced casually._

_'' Thank God.'' Even if there was an odd little patch down the end of her side of the bed that she wasn't going to touch even if it meant she had to sleep in the foetal position all night. _

_He bent his head over the candle on his bedside table and blew. Copying him, Sam did the same to hers. Then they climbed into bed together._

_Clinging to the outside edge, Sam resolutely closed her eyes. This was simply the last time she shared with this guy. At least with Dr Jackson she could be sure he respected her. Colonel O'Neill barely tolerated her - she was a scientist and a woman, a combination he apparently couldn't cope with._

_One day she would prove to him that she was his equal. She would show him._

_Though why it mattered so much to her she just didn't know._

__


	8. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 is an original MGM, Greenburg/Anderson, Gekko, Top Secret, Kawoosh! production. Any material relating to Stargate SG-1 is for entertainment only, and is in no way meant as an infringement on copyrights. In other words, I own nadda. 

A/N: I promise, this is going somewhere. I have finished all of my WIPs before this one. 

* 

* 

* 

Showering was hard. She lay on the sofa at half past eight the next morning, contemplating the best way to do it. There wasn't enough room in the bathroom to take her clothes in and get changed. She was going to have to bend over slightly the whole time and she couldn't dry herself in a steamy room anyway. But there was no way in hell she was going to wander around outside in a towel. 

'' Colonel?'' She spoke before she'd confirmed that he was awake, assuming that he, like her, hadn't slept very well either. 

'' Yeah?'' 

'' I want to have a shower.'' 

He moved slowly in the bed, then she could see his head. He was looking at her. '' Are you asking my permission?'' 

'' No.'' Well... ''Yes.'' 

'' I'll close my eyes.'' 

That hadn't exactly been what she'd wanted. She'd hoped he'd offer to go out or something. Get a newspaper. Do *anything* that got him out of the apartment so she could get changed without feeling uncomfortable. 

Apparently not. 

Deciding to get it over and done with, Sam unfolded herself from the sofa, acknowledging the crick in her spine as she stood up. Her bag lay by the wall and she bent down and pulled her shampoo and conditioner from one of the side pockets. To aid her when she got out of the shower, she laid out her clothes for the day, mindful that she would be applying for a dubious job, and then picked up a towel that had come with the place. Nice of Maybourne to provide her with linen and towels. Pity he hadn't taken into account that she was rather tall and the towel was not. 

She made deft work with her hair, brushed her teeth and dried herself as best she could considering the fan didn't work terribly well. When she opened the door, the cold hit her at once, and she watched steam rise to the ceiling. She peeked around and saw that he was lying on his front, his head turned away from her. Relieved, she walked over to the sofa and started drying herself, her back to him. She wrapped the towel around her waist and hurriedly clipped on her bra, then put her on her wrap-around-shirt. She checked over her shoulder to once again confirm that he still wasn't looking - she didn't know *why* she was suddenly so concerned about this - and pulled the towel off in order to put on her panties and grey trousers. 

Once fully dressed, and remarkably more secure for it, Sam worked the towel over her hair, rubbing and rubbing as she walked over to the window to look out at the city. Well, what she could see of it. A parking lot, some more apartment buildings and if she pressed her nose against the window, a grocery store down on the corner. 

Colonel O'Neill rolled over suddenly and she looked over at him, and threw the towel over onto the sofa. ''Good sleep?'' she asked, falsely. 

'' No,'' he answered, much to her surprise. '' You?'' 

Since they were being honest.... '' Not particularly.'' 

He didn't say anything to that, just sat upright and rubbed a hand over his hair. '' You're going to go to the restaurant.'' 

'' The impression I got from Maybourne was that calling it a 'restaurant' would be a bit of a stretch.'' 

'' I've heard of it.'' 

She raised her eyebrows. '' Really, Colonel?'' she said dryly. 

'' A friend of mine had a bachelor party there.'' 

'' Ah.'' 

'' Don't use that tone of voice with me, Carter,'' he said scathingly, viciously in fact. '' You have no right to dictate what I do with my personal life.'' 

She blanched and turned to look out of the window. '' Of course not, Colonel. I'm sorry,'' she said softly, obediently. 

'' Shit.'' He fell back down onto the bed and covered his eyes with his hands. 

Sam pressed her head against the glass and closed her eyes. 

'' What do you want me to do, Carter?'' he appealed, lifting his hands into the air imploringly. 

'' I don't know.'' 

'' Why did you call me?'' 

'' Because I... I wanted to.'' 

'' What do you expect to happen here, Carter? You went AWOL, and nothing you've told me - which isn't a lot - has indicated that you didn't deliberately do so.'' 

'' I did go AWOL. I didn't exactly mean to. I meant to get away for the week of our downtime, but once I was away, I just couldn't seem to come back,'' she whispered against the glass. 

'' If you wanted to leave, why didn't you resign? Why didn't you just call, for God's sake? Send a fax, a memo...'' 

'' You never get your memos. Do you know why that is?'' 

'' What? Are you changing the subject?'' 

'' It's because they're yellow. They look just like your notes. You just put them in the bin when you see them.'' She smiled faintly, recalling the numerous times she'd actually seen him do it. '' The SGC memos are different to the ones in the real world.'' 

'' That's really fascinating, Carter...'' 

'' You don't have to call me that. You can call me Sam.'' 

'' I don't want to.'' 

She sighed, watched as the condensation patch grew, and then shrunk on the window. '' Are you deliberately being nasty? Is this what it's going to be like?'' 

'' Just be glad I haven't beaten you to a pulp,'' he muttered. 

'' If it would stop this, I'd rather you did.'' 

'' Don't temp me.'' 

Sam turned her head to the side and looked at him. '' I thought I did that already. Remember that New Year's?'' 

* 

_'' He's drunk.''_

_'' How can you tell?''_

_Sam shrugged, put her beer down. '' I've seen it before.''_

_Janet frowned, her brow furrowing. '' When have you?''_

_'' Usually after yet another SG-1 narrow escape.''_

_'' Don't jinx it, Sam.'' Janet sipped her wine thoughtfully, watching Colonel O'Neill from where they were standing in the corner of the room. '' He's so gorgeous. Not my type, but still gorgeous.''_

_Sam grinned. '' Yeah.''_

_'' You know, you're the envy of most of the women on base.''_

_'' What? All twelve of them?'' she quipped. It was standard routine with the women - to lighten the fact that they were a distinct minority. She lifted her beer to her lips and gulped. '' I ought to go and sit with him.''_

_'' You don't have to baby-sit him.''_

_'' I'm not baby-sitting him. I care about him.''_

_Janet's eyebrows shot up. '' Sam!''_

_'' Not like that.'' Like that. So, totally, totally, like that. '' Look, Daniel's seen him too.'' She nodded to the scientist, who was trying to edge out of the too-intense conversation with Dr Hawley. _

_'' Fine. Go. Abandon me. I don't care.'' Sighing like a martyr, Janet went on to her next victim, while Sam wound her way through the crowd in O'Malley's main bar area, smiling and nodding at people she knew, somewhat relieved when the crowd thinned out around the booths._

_'' Hey, Colonel,'' she said, sliding in to the other side of the booth._

_He regarded her suspiciously, even more suspiciously when Daniel slid in next to her. '' Did you time that?'' he asked crossly._

_They looked at each other, grinned the smile of good friends, and then went back to their drinks._

_'' So,'' Sam said, turning to Daniel, knowing full well the Colonel wasn't in a talkative mood, '' how's Dr Hawley?''_

_Daniel winced. '' She's very.... intense.''_

_'' She luurrrves you,'' Sam announced, giggling._

_Predictably, Daniel flushed. '' I'm married.''_

_She giggled. '' So's Dr Hawley.''_

_'' No way.'' Daniel blinked several times. '' You're kidding, right?''_

_Sam shook her head. '' Uh uh. Married.'' She waggled her wedding finger. '' Three kids.''_

_'' Then why... why does she... um, that is to say...''_

_'' Why does she flirt like it's her last day on Earth?'' Sam shrugged. '' Got me there. As far as I know, she never goes through with it.''_

_Daniel looked like he'd been hit by a truck. '' Wow.'' He stared down at his beer, shook his head slightly and lifted it to his mouth. Brought it back down and managed another, '' Wow.''_

_'' Jeez, Carter,'' the Colonel murmured, '' never thought you'd be the type for idle gossip.''_

_Something in his tone suggested he was being unpleasant, but Sam decided it was New Year's and she was going to be resilient. Okay, so she was going to be unpleasant right back. '' What was that Colonel? Were you, God forbid, participating in our conversation?''_

_'' Hey, you came over here,'' he pointed out._

_She tilted her head to the side. '' Yes, we did. And we're going to stay here because I'm going to kiss you both at midnight.''_

_'' Really?'' Daniel perked up, deliberately._

_She cuffed him around the shoulder. '' Okay, okay, so I have another motive.'' _

_'' Simmons is looking for you?''_

_'' Shut up. Can you see him? I don't want to give him any ideas.'' She was already stretching up in her seat, her eyes searching the crowd._

_'' I think he's... er... making out with Lieutenant Farrah.''_

_'' The slut!''_

_'' Lieutenant Farrah?''_

_'' No, Simmons!" She snorted and sat back down. '' Well. There goes my chance of a love life. Again.''_

_'' You weren't seriously considering....''_

_'' No, but it was nice to feel wanted.''_

_Daniel laughed. '' Sam, that's ridiculous.''_

_She made a face and stole his beer. '' Man, my life sucks. You know when I last went out with a guy?''_

_'' No, Sam, I don't, and how much have you drunk?''_

_'' Enough to make me really talkative. You noticed?'' She grinned at him, and he grinned stupidly back. '' You'll want to record everything I tell you so you can wind me up until next New Year's.''_

_'' I'll do that.''_

_'' I've forgotten what I was going to say.''_

_'' Thank you God,'' Colonel O'Neill whispered loudly, raising his eyes to the ceiling._

_'' Jack,'' Daniel chastised. _

_'' Can I go yet?''_

_'' No, because we're sharing a cab,'' he pointed out, pointedly, waving a finger at the Colonel._

_Suddenly, the music stopped, someone got hold of a microphone and started to speak quickly into it._

_'' What's that?'' Daniel asked._

_'' It's nearly midnight.'' The Colonel sighed and put his beer down, wiped his hands over his face. '' I hate this.''_

_'' TEN!''_

_'' I wish Teal'c was here. It's a pity he had to miss it.''_

_'' NINE!''_

_'' He'd hate it,'' Colonel O'Neill said. '' He was mighty confused by last year's 'celebration'.''_

_'' EIGHT!''_

_'' Jonas hated New Year's,'' Sam said, suddenly, strangely reminded of him. '' And Christmas. And his birthday. Me. Oh, Jesus, now you've got me doing it.''_

_'' SEVEN!''_

_The Colonel saluted her with his beer. '' My aim in life. To make you miserable.''_

_'' SIX!''_

_'' Trust me, you've got it down,'' she told him snappishly - her mind flashing back to all the horrible things he'd done that year. Edora, secret missions, harsh words, betrayals._ _Making her fall in love with him. Bastard._

_'' FIVE!''_

_'' I didn't mean it, Sam,'' he said, eyes catching hers and holding. He looked, suddenly, terribly sad. And she had a feeling he was talking about something else._

_'' FOUR!''_

_'' It's all right.''_

_'' THREE!''_

_'' No, it's not.''_

_'' TWO!''_

_'' It's over, Colonel. I forgive you.''_

_'' ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!''_

_Daniel planted one on her before she could realise what was happening. Then he pulled his lips away, leaned across the table and, laughing, planted one on the Colonel's forehead. Then he was off to find Janet, no doubt. _

_Sam was moving before she knew it, climbing over the edge of the table and sliding down next to him. He'd already turned to face her, shielding her from the rest of the room, his eyes running from her eyes to her mouth and back again. He leaned in towards her, pressing his mouth against hers, taking her breath away. The kiss grew quickly, from surprised and new to passionate and hot, tongues intermingling, hands going out to grasp onto whatever they could find. Panting, they tilted their heads in the opposite direction, his hands going up to grip her face as she grabbed handfuls of his hair and pulled him closer. _

* 

'' I remember.'' 

Which was ironic really, considering they'd both professed not to remember a thing that had happened after about eleven on New Year's Eve. 

'' Are you going to come down with me?'' 

He nodded and slid out of bed, looking down at his feet. Sam dragged her eyes away from him and looked back out of the window, desperate to find something interesting to occupy her mind while he changed. 

Five minutes later, he was ready and was running his fingers through his hair, desperately trying to bring it to order. Then he threw his hands up at the mirror and picked up his wallet and keys. She smiled faintly, and looked down at her boots. 

'' Walking or driving?'' he asked. 

'' Walk. It's not far from here.'' 

'' Maybourne picked the place well, then.'' 

'' I don't even want to think about it.'' 

For the first time, his smile was almost natural. '' Tell me about it.'' 

Full, suddenly, of hope, Sam pulled open the door and they headed for the stairs (elevator wasn't working - bode well for the future). They clattered down silent but for the sound their shoes made on the floor. Outside it was a little chillier than Sam had expected and she buttoned up her coat tightly. From her pocket she pulled out a pair of gloves and a matching woolly hat that she only wore when no one she knew could see her. 

'' That's almost as awful as mine,'' was all he said, glancing at her as they walked side by side. 

'' Please. Mine is way uglier than yours.'' 

'' You look about five.'' 

She wrinkled her nose, knowing it was going to go red in about five minutes, and shrugged. '' At least I'm warm.'' 

He didn't say anything to that, instead looked around intently at his surroundings, almost as if they were off-world. In fact, exactly as if they were off-world. Did he ever relax? she wondered, watching him out of the corner of her eye. 

The restaurant was, of course, closed. And it appeared to be a door that led into a tall, boxy brick building with no windows. The Colonel wandered off down the side while she read the information on the glass display by the door. There was no menu, just opening times, the reservations phone line and a couple of contact numbers, including one for job applications. She pulled out her mobile and started dialling the first number. 

'' Luxur.'' 

'' Hi, I want to apply for a job.'' 

'' Name?'' 

'' Samantha Clorel.'' 

There was a pause. '' Address?'' 

She reeled off her address details, tapping her fingers on the glass casing of the display. 

'' Your application form should be with you tomorrow. Fill it out, drop it by the restaurant as soon as possible. There's a mail slot on the door down the side. We'll get back to you if we find you're a suitable candidate.'' 

'' Right, okay. Thanks.'' 

'' You're welcome.'' 

The Colonel came back, hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket, expression entirely professional. '' There's another exit down there but that's it. Still no windows. Looks like they've all been bricked up, but since the roofs flat, it wouldn't surprise me if there are skylights on the top.'' 

She nodded at his assessment. '' They're sending me an application form. I'll fill it out and drop it by tomorrow.'' 

'' What do we do until then?'' 

'' I have no idea.'' The idea that she would now be forced to spend time with him was both 

He looked at his watch. '' Breakfast, I guess. I'm starving.'' 

If things had been normal, she would have been pleased. He was looking strangely thin, especially about the face. She wanted to ask if he'd been ill or something - maybe that was the reason for their downtime - but she knew he wouldn't tell her. 

'' Actually, um, I want to go for a run. Can we meet somewhere in an hour or so?'' she asked, checking her watch. 

'' Still keeping up your routine?'' 

Sam nodded, shrugged a shoulder and looked down the street. '' Habit, I guess.'' 

'' Okay. I'll meet you at the apartment in an hour. I suppose you'll have to have a shower again.'' 

She cleared her throat - this morning, of course, she'd been too panicked to think ahead. '' I will. So... take a while.'' 

'' Sure.'' 

'' Sure.'' 

Then, after both pausing indecisively, they went their separate ways. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 is an original MGM, Greenburg/Anderson, Gekko, Top Secret, Kawoosh! production. Any material relating to Stargate SG-1 is for entertainment only, and is in no way meant as an infringement on copyrights. In other words, I own nadda. 

* 

* 

* 

Another night on the sofa, Sam thought, miserably regarding the blue cushions as she shook out the sheet she was using. The Colonel was already in the bed, sprawled on his front, face turned towards the wall. She couldn't tell if he was asleep. Unlike Daniel, Colonel O'Neill didn't snore - something, she suspected, that had been trained out of him - and unless you were very close to him, you couldn't hear the change in his breathing. 

She went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth, dropped her toothbrush down on the shelf next to the Colonel's. Then she washed her face and examined her reflection critically. She hadn't heard from Luxur that day, even though she'd posted the four-page application form about an hour after she'd got it in the mail. She'd spent the day checking out the area with the Colonel, memorising roads from Luxur and trying to find out as much information as possible about the place from the locals. Their responses had ranged from 'den of sin' (elderly lady with two poodles) to 'difficult to get into, but apparently it's got great food - even better service' (young man in his late twenties who'd winked at Sam suggestively). 

Sam ran her comb through her hair and wandered over to get herself a glass of water. 

Only drinking half of it, she poured the rest down the drain and watched it swirl away. Talk about an uncomfortable couple of days. When their conversation had veered from the strictly professional, they'd ended up nearly arguing. Nearly arguing meant the tension would rise and rise and rise until the point when both of them realised their voices were reaching shouting pitch, and then they both clammed up like... clams. 

Hence the past three hours of complete and utter _silence_. 

Sam wasn't so inept at relationships to realise that at some point the tension would reach a point when their neat, soldierly little house of cards would fall down and she and Colonel O'Neill would probably have the biggest argument man had ever seen. 

It was nerve wracking. 

She propped the glass upside down on the draining board and went to sit on the sofa, reaching for her Mut file one more time to read over the contents she'd already memorised. Sam didn't quite manage to read it, though. She ran her fingers over the page, thinking about Daniel, who'd researched and written the report. God, she really missed Daniel. His smile, his voice, his un-military attitude and the way he and the Colonel would banter away together. 

With horror, Sam felt her eyes tear up. Rather surprised, she reached for a corner of her sheet and maniacally started dabbing, blotting tears that were rapidly dropping. God knew what had brought this on, she thought, slowly lowering herself down onto the sofa so any noise she made would be blocked out by the cushions. Just because she suddenly wanted to see Daniel wasn't any reason to start blubbering. Shoulders jerking with the effort to conceal her crying, Sam bit down hard on the sheet. 

She made a tiny little accidental noise, and froze. 

Silence. 

Inevitably, her nose started running, blocking her breathing. She was forced to turn her head to the side, and she slowly breathed out through her mouth, being extra specially careful not to make it sound like she was crying. 

When Sam felt she was under control, she sat up and switched off the light. She buried under the sheet, turning her back to the room and staring at the back of the sofa. She wasn't particularly sleepy, but since it had got to ten o'clock and they'd hadn't spoken for a good couple of hours, there hadn't been much else to do but go to bed. 

She heard him get out of bed. 

Stilling, she listened intently. Where was he going? Bathroom? She waited, ears pricked. 

He stood up, the bed creaking slightly, his clothes rustling. She heard light padding as he walked towards her and she raised her eyes towards the bathroom door, wanting to get a look at him. But instead of coming to stand by the bathroom door, he loomed over her, his shadow casting her face into darkness. 

Heart skipping a beat, Sam rolled on her bed and peered up at him. '' What?'' she asked creakily. 

He reached down and grabbed her legs - she yelped - and bent them at the knee. He sat down by her feet, his hands going down to where the sheet covered her ankles. '' Look, I figure we do better in darkness anyway, so we oughta have our 'chat' here.'' 

So he'd known it was coming too. Interesting. '' Do we have to fight?'' 

'' Carter, you know us. We don't do talking well. The only way we're going to have this out is if we fight.'' 

'' That's really sad.'' 

'' But true.'' He was smiling - she could just see it. 

'' Do you really want to beat the crap out of me?'' 

'' No. I just... want... to shake you really, really, _really_ hard.'' 

Sam sat up properly, her hands sliding down her legs to grip his wrists. She needed a little skin to skin contact. '' If it would make you feel better...'' 

'' I am not going to shake you really, really, really hard, Carter.'' 

She giggled, the tension in her spine easing a little. '' No, sir.'' 

'' Sir,'' he said on an out-breath. '' I hate that word.'' 

'' I know. You... you know I'd much rather call you 'Jack', don't you?'' 

'' No.'' 

His tone was so foreboding, she almost let go of his wrists. '' Well, I would. Just so you know.'' 

'' Thank you. And I'd rather call you Sam, but I won't if you still call me Colonel.'' 

'' Fine.'' 

'' Did you run away from me?'' 

She blinked. That had been a little too quick for her - she was prepared for a proper talk but not prepared, apparently, for the questions he wanted answers too. '' Sir?'' 

'' You heard me.'' 

'' I - '' She had been about to deny it, but to do so felt wrong. Hadn't she, in effect, been running away from him? Not him, him, but what he represented. All the things she couldn't have. '' Yes,'' she said eventually. 

His shoulders slumped, his hands tried to move away from hers, but she held on tightly. '' Carter...'' 

'' No, I want to explain.'' 

'' I'm listening.'' 

'' It just got too much. It's hard work remaining sane in that place, you know?'' She hoped, desperately, that he did. '' I seem to have this penchant for getting... sucked in by aliens.'' Her lips quirked. '' Or sucking in aliens.'' 

'' Ew.'' 

She winced. '' Sorry. Bad joke. It's just... it's not fun. Okay? It's not fun. In fact... I hate it. As in, I really hate it.'' She didn't know when she'd started talking in short sentences, but it probably had something to do with the fact that she couldn't seem to voice exactly how she was feeling. '' And then there's... the crap that comes with the aliens. Jolinar. She was in love with Martouf. She loved Martouf. They were married. It was this whole... love of a lifetime thing. And I can still feel that, the remnants of it. Part of me is mourning, Jack.'' 

The Colonel slid his hands around hers. '' You never told me.'' 

'' I didn't tell anyone. I didn't just get her memories, Colonel. I got... her emotions, her feelings. It was the most confusing thing. It _is_ the most confusing thing. Then there's... us.'' 

'' Us.'' 

'' There is an 'us','' she said firmly, refusing to be picked upon over this point. 

'' I know there's an 'us', Carter,'' he said quickly. '' It's obvious there's an 'us'.'' 

'' Right. And this... 'us'. It's not easy. I mean, massively not easy.'' 

He swallowed. Loudly. '' No. It's not.'' 

'' In fact, it's probably... really difficult.'' 

Oh, this was going nowhere. 

'' Carter, I'm accepting the fact that what we deal with on a daily basis, as 'us', isn't easy. In fact, it's probably the worst thing about our job.'' 

Sam let out a breath. That had been what she'd been trying to convey. The aliens, to some extent, she could deal with it. But them? That was a new pain every day. '' Yeah. So, you see, my birthday - that wasn't the reason I left. It was just...'' 

''... the last straw.'' 

'' Yeah.'' 

'' You're not the only one who's having a hard time.'' 

'' I know! I know! There's you and... and... and Daniel's lost his wife, for God's sake. She was made a Goa'uld. Teal'c's ostracised by his people, infamous across the universe, his son's on another planet. We all have horrible problems and I hate that I, me of all people, let them get on top of me. Like I'm this... complete flake when I'm not, that's just not me...'' She sighed. '' Maybourne thinks I need therapy.'' 

'' Maybourne? You having nice chats with Maybourne?'' 

'' Well, he kept asking me questions. I don't know. I have this horrible feeling he likes me.'' 

He was quiet for a long moment, his fingers lightly and repetitively squeezing her hands. '' Well, look at this, we didn't fight.'' 

Sam smiled. '' No. We didn't.'' 

'' I feel smug. Do you feel smug?'' 

'' I feel smug,'' she agreed, itching to ask him to hug her. She wouldn't though. She absolutely refused to, for one because she knew it would lead them to... somewhere they couldn't go. '' Do you still feel like shaking me really, really, really hard?'' 

'' Er... no. Other things. But not shaking.'' 

Her whole body flushed red hot, instantly. '' I can't believe you just said that.'' 

'' Thinking a bout it, neither can I. I'm gonna go back to bed.'' 

'' You do that. Night, Colonel.'' 

'' Night, Carter.'' He stood up and walked across the room, unaware that Sam was staring at his ass. _Okay_, she told herself, _way too old for that_, firmly pulling her eyes away from his very attractive anatomy and returning her gaze to the back of the sofa. 

It was only about fifteen minutes later, that Sam realised Colonel O'Neill had told her absolutely nothing about himself. About how he was feeling. Nothing. 

She couldn't help but smile. Damn him. 

* 

_'' Four months in this damn place and I'm still getting lost. Is the commissary this way?'' Dr Jackson asked her as they came across each other at a crossroads._

_Sam grinned. '' No. That way.''_

_The young man looked down the corridor, giving Sam ample opportunity to look him up and down. He was cute - the kind of cute that made the nurses in the infirmary swoon. Unfortunately for Sam, she didn't go for cute. He was too 'little brother' like for her - quite how she knew that she didn't know. She only had an older brother. '' How do you know?''_

_'' It's the markings on the ground.'' She pointed down to the various coloured lines that were all over the floor._

_'' Oh. I think... I think I'll just make myself a map. I'll forget which colour means what...''_

_She chuckled. '' Look, I'm due a break. Do you want to get a coffee or something?''_

_Dr Jackson brightened. '' Hey, great. So, you've been working on the Stargate project for years, have you?''_

_Sam nodded, eyeing the pile of sheets that was tucked under his arm. They were kinda slipping... '' Er, Doctor, do you want me to...'' Quick as a flash, she grabbed the sheets just as they were about to fall._

_'' Damn. I should get a file or something. You don't have to call me Doctor. It's Daniel.''_

_'' Okay. Sam, then.''_

_'' I know. It seems ridiculous that we'd have to call each other by our titles. I'm not in the military, after all.''_

_She smiled faintly, helping him tuck the sheets back under his arm. '' Quite.''_

_They continued walking, whereupon Daniel saw fit to tell her all the things he fount at fault with the military. She couldn't help but be amused - he had a way about him, that was for sure. A certain boyish... something or other. Charm, she supposed. Even though he was currently insulting the institution she worked for, he was doing it in such a way that it was entertaining. Particularly since she started arguing right back._ _There was nothing Sam liked more than a good, logical argument._

_By the time they got into the commissary, she and Daniel Jackson were tossing arguments forwards and backwards, enjoying themselves immensely._

_Colonel O'Neill, Sam's new CO, was already in the commissary, eating cake and drinking coffee while a dour-faced Teal'c sat across him reading some kind of a book. Daniel automatically headed for the table, pausing mid-argument to greet both the Colonel and Teal'c, then continuing once more. It was pretty impressive, Sam thought, nodding respectfully to her CO before rejoining the conversation._

_After about five minutes of listening to them go on, the Colonel interrupted, '' Guys?''_

_They both looked at him._

_'' Could you, I don't know, *stop*?''_

_Sam felt chastened, Daniel just grinned. '' I don't know, Jack. It's nice to be able to have a logical conversation with someone.''_

_A little surprised at the tone Daniel had taken with her CO, Sam glanced up from her coffee to see how Colonel O'Neill was taking it._

_The Colonel just looked amused. '' So long as you're not spouting theories at me, I guess. Just... it's early in the morning. Can we keep it down, just a little?''_

_'' Yes, sir.''_

_Daniel blinked at her. '' Yes, sir? He can't order you around during your break time.''_

_'' Actually. I can.''_

_Sam was nodding in agreement with her CO. _

_'' What about off-base? Will you take orders from him there? Say, if you were at a restaurant.''_

_The Colonel leaned across the table. '' When would Carter and I *ever* be at a restaurant?''_

_'' Exactly,'' Sam put in._

_'' I don't know. Like an SG-1 bonding thing. Not just you two because you'd both have nothing to talk about...''_

_'' Hey,'' the Colonel said defensively. '' I can make conversation.''_

_'' Oh, yeah, and what would you talk about?''_

_Okay, this was going into territory that was making Sam vaguely embarrassed. Daniel had now started an argument which she really didn't want to be involved in. Stating the fact that she and her new CO had nothing in common was one thing, making the Colonel defensive about it was another._

_She decided that maybe if she just picked up her coffee and slid towards the other end of the bench slowly...._

_'' Sam?''_

_Sam froze._

_The Colonel froze._

_Daniel looked up._

_Very slowly, Sam turned her head to the side. She smiled. Falsely. '' Oh. Hi, Jonas.''_

_What the hell was he doing here?_

_'' I heard you worked here. I'd always wondered... what you did.'' He hovered uncertainly at the end of the table, clean shaven, short hair, eyes deep and ever so slightly nervous. _

_'' Yeah. This is... it.'' Oh God, make him go away. Make the others start talking, for goodness sake._

_'' Just thought I'd drop by and see you. I'm CO of SG-9.''_

_How hadn't she known that? Did this mean he was going to be around the whole time? She was going to see him on a daily basis? '' That's great, Jonas. I'm really pleased for you.''_

_And she was. Sort of. He'd kind of fallen into a black hole when they'd broken up - and she wasn't vain enough to think that she was the reason. She was a trigger, perhaps, but Jonas had plenty of other problems in his life other than her._

_'' I'll see you around?''_

_'' Sure. Drop by my lab... any time.''_

_Holy Hannah, why did she *say* that?_

_She was so relieved when Jonas left. So relieved that she betrayed herself just a little and lowered her head to the table._

_Daniel spoke first, '' Well.... that was uncomfortable.''_

_'' Something you'd like to share with the class, Carter?''_

_They were going to find out sooner or later. '' My ex-fiancé.''_

_'' Of all the Air Force officers in all the world....'' Daniel chuckled. '' Sorry, Sam.''_

_'' It's not your fault.''_

_'' He had a good record.''_

_Sam snorted, but decided it would be best not to comment. Her opinions on Jonas's 'qualifications' were not to be shared. The ability to be able to talk without saying anything. The fact that he had to be in charge all the time. Oh yeah, she could wax lyrical about Jonas's qualifications._

_'' Carter? Is this going to be a problem?''_

_'' No, sir. Jonas and I were over a *long* time ago.'' And, besides, she knew better than to let her emotions get in the way of her work._


	10. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: See beginning 

A/N: Thanks to Debbie, Emry, Kat, Mel, Sandy and Kari for beta-ing this so well. 

* 

* 

* 

Ten minutes, and the hairs on the back of Sam's neck had yet to lie down. Always a bad sign. She glanced at the long mirror again, saw nothing but her reflection and those of the three other women sitting against the wall, and looked away. 

There was nothing in the room that should have concerned her - the walls were pale cream, the coffee table was smothered with magazines and a couple of innocent-looking potted plants. Admittedly, there were no windows but the excellent lighting made up for that. Two doors, one through which they had all come, one through which the woman who had escorted them into the room had gone. 

Nothing out of the ordinary. 

Still, the hairs stayed up. 

She glanced at the mirror again. 

It was Sam's professional opinion that there was someone behind the mirror watching them. Why, she didn't know - what kind of employer viewed prospective employees in this fashion? But then, if what she was feeling was right, whoever was behind that mirror was Goa'uld. And that made her like no other employer on Earth. 

Maybourne's theory - that Sam would be all the more an appealing employee because of her experience with Jolinar - pressed down on her. Now, she supposed, was the time to press her advantage (if it was an advantage). She needed to make it obvious that she, Samantha Clorel, was no ordinary candidate. 

Standing up and smoothing down the smart pants she'd worn for the occasion, Sam wandered over to the mirror. The other applicants looked up from their magazines and watched her suspiciously. Casually, she reached up to check her hair, touching the ruffled style with the palm of her hand. 

Slowly, she moved along the mirror, trying to feel exactly where the Goa'uld was. Exactly. The closer she came to a Goa'uld, the stronger the feeling of unease and as Sam walked towards the left hand side of the mirror, her skin began to crawl. Not badly, or anything. It wasn't distracting, just... a presence that Sam had been forced to get used to. The moment the sensation began to ebb, Sam realised she'd walked too far. 

To the amusement of her onlookers, she backed up a couple of steps, paused and made a decision. 

Here. 

Facing the mirror, Sam knew she was 'looking' at a Goa'uld. Maybourne had been right all along. 

Flicking her eyes up and down the mirror, Sam made it perfectly apparent to whoever was watching that she knew there was something or someone behind the mirror. Beyond that, there was little she could do. She turned on her heel and walked back to her seat, sat down and crossed her legs, her eyes repeatedly going to the same spot on the mirror. 

Ten minutes later, the woman who had brought them into the room said they were free to leave. 

* 

''That was it?'' 

Sam nodded and was forced to chew quickly so she could answer. She swallowed and waved her fork at him. ''That was it.'' 

''No interview?'' 

''Colonel...'' 

He sighed and looked down into his own finished bowl of pasta. His fork chased a lone blob of sauce and then he gave up and went back to eating his way through the bread basket. ''She was watching you. Checking you all out. Probably for physical appeal.'' 

Sam winced, shoulders slumping. ''Oh great.'' 

He laughed soundlessly, pulled the piece of Italian bread in half and chased the sauce in his bowl with that instead. ''Don't fish, Carter.'' 

''Fish? Are you kidding me?'' She blushed to think of the very idea of getting him to give her compliments. ''The women in that room were at least ten years younger than me.'' With breasts the size of mountains, but she wasn't about to tell him that. 

''They didn't look that attractive from where I was standing.'' 

''You were on top of the opposite building with binoculars!'' 

''Exactly. It was a very good pair of binoculars.'' 

She snorted. ''Wouldn't it be really funny if I don't get a job? Maybourne's plan would be blown to hell and back.'' 

''You'll get the job.'' He pushed his bowl aside and crossed his arms on the table, looking around the near empty restaurant with interest. ''The intrigue is enough to get anyone a job. She's a Goa'uld - she'll be desperate for some entertainment.'' 

Twisting her pasta around her fork, Sam tended to agree. ''I guess we'll just have to wait and see.'' She glanced up to see that his eyes were focused very intently upon her food. It was the same off-world, or at least, it had been. He'd finish his food first and then pick at everyone else's. It was part of the reason why Daniel brought along extra chocolate bars. ''Do you want some?'' 

''Yeah,'' he answered easily, nudging his bowl towards her. ''I'm starving.'' 

''You've not been eating well, or have you been ill?'' she asked conversationally. It was something she'd been desperate to know - any hint of what they'd been doing back at home. 

''Why do you ask?'' 

''You've lost weight.'' She scooped a generous portion of her lunch into his bowl. ''So?'' 

''So what?'' 

''Have you been ill? You, Daniel, even Teal'c? Did you catch something on a mission?'' 

He shrugged, looked mutinous. ''No. Don't.'' 

Rolling her eyes, Sam pressed him further. ''And what about Daniel? What happened between you two?'' 

''We had an argument,'' he said quietly, looking at his food intently. ''Look, Carter, I don't want to discuss this....'' 

She threw her fork down into her bowl with a clatter. ''We're gonna have to discuss it. I'm worried about you.'' 

''Really? Good impression you were doing for the last month there, Carter,'' he snapped, eyes narrowing threateningly. ''I can tell you were really concerned.'' 

''I still thought about you! It wasn't like I completely ignored the fact that you're an important part of my life, okay?'' Aware that there were eyes on them from the other side of the room, Sam lowered her voice. ''Why won't you tell me?'' 

''Because I don't,'' he stabbed at his pasta, ''want to. You don't deserve to know.'' 

Her eyelids lowered with hurt. She guessed he was right. That was the problem. She really didn't deserve to be let back in. 

On her right, her cell phone started to ring. 

* 

_Sam didn't really know how she felt about it until it was all done and over with. Until he was back home, safe, his own age once again. _

_It was only then, when the four of them were sitting in the commissary eating, and Daniel and the Colonel were chatting away like usual with Teal'c listening curiously, that Sam realised._

_She felt disappointed._

_Over the past few months, she'd come to respect Colonel O'Neill - something she'd suspected she'd never manage to do. Few men gained Sam's respect these days, particularly Air Force men, and she'd assumed that her CO would be another man for whom she'd follow orders but have little interest in otherwise. She was wrong. Colonel O'Neill had proved himself to be that honorable breed of man who had principles he stuck to no matter what, principles that Sam herself could understand and agree with._

_Therefore, finding out that he'd slept with some voluptuous, pouty alien chick didn't really sit well with Sam. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't his fault - he'd been drugged, alien influence, and so on - but a small part of her mind kept trying to point out that he was Special Forces trained. Some part of him must have complied with what he was going through. It just didn't sit right, that was all._

_She dropped her fork on her plate and wished she wasn't so disappointed in him. It could only mean one thing - that she had grown to like him as well. And that was almost as bad as respecting him. _

_''Carter? Something up?''_

_Sam shook her head. ''No, sir. I'm fine.''_

_''You sure, Sam? You look preoccupied.''_

_The Colonel smiled suddenly. ''Probably *thinking*.''_

_This was his latest joke. He really enjoyed that one. _

_''Yes, sir. Thinking. Funny,'' she said softly, reaching for her glass of water. _

_''Jack,'' Daniel chastised, smiling slightly._

_''You know you like it. It means I'm not picking on you.''_

_Daniel glanced at Sam. ''Sorry, Sam. It's true.''_

_She shook her head. ''Coward.''_

_''Hey, I've had it longer than you have...''_

_Colonel O'Neill reached across the table and stole Daniel's second bread roll. ''You two will just have to deal with it. You're smart and you'll be appropriately teased for it.''_

_''Fine,'' Daniel sighed._

_''Aye, aye, Captain Kirk,'' Sam murmured, the expression slipping out before she'd really considered the wisdom of it._

_The Colonel froze, glanced up at her. Slowly, red color suffused his face. Clearly, he got the reference._

_He cleared his throat. ''Thank you, Captain._

_Smirking, Sam picked up her fork. ''That's perfectly all right, sir.''_

_She supposed she'd get over the disappointment. Hopefully soon. She didn't like the way it made her feel._

* 

''Samantha Clorel speaking.'' 

''Ms Clorel, we are pleased to offer you a job at Luxor,'' a low, raspy voice informed her. 

''Oh! Oh, that's great. Thank you.'' 

Across the table, the Colonel raised his eyebrows and she nodded energetically. 

''You will need to come to Luxur tomorrow morning at half past eight to begin your training. Do you have any background in waitressing or bar work?'' 

''Nothing beyond a couple of summer jobs when I was still in school.'' 

''Fine. Details on the job will be available tomorrow morning. At Luxur we offer our applicants a full day's training, after which they will be able to decide whether they wish to continue with the employment.'' 

''Okay. Sure.'' 

''We'll see you tomorrow then.'' 

''Eight thirty. Got it.'' 

Sam hung up. ''Well.'' 

''Told ya.'' He scooped up some more of her pasta and stuffed it into his mouth. 

''I've got a full day of training tomorrow, then I 'sign up'.'' 

''Wonder what the pay's like.'' 

She shrugged; guess she'd find that out the next day. ''What are you going to do tomorrow?'' 

''Walk around.'' 

''All day?'' 

''I like being a tourist. You'll take your cell, right?'' 

''Yup. And I've got your number.'' 

''I want you to call in every hour. Just call me and hang up.'' 

''What if I can't get to my phone?'' 

''Keep it on you at all times. Hide it in a pocket or something. It's small enough. Surprised you don't lose it,'' he muttered. 

She shrugged. ''I don't lose things. Actually,'' she continued, a little nervously, ''this is Maybourne's.'' 

He glanced at. ''I thought you didn't lose things.'' 

Sam made a face. ''No, he took the other one away from me when I tried to call you the first time. He didn't want me to be traced.'' 

''Right.'' 

Sam looked up at him through her lowered eyelashes and wondered if this would be an acceptable opportunity to ask why his wife had been at his house. But, looking at the expression on his face, she doubted that was a good idea. 

Looked like their 'talk' the night before last really hadn't done much, as she'd suspected. While she may have aired all her feelings, he had yet to give in and air his. And she had a sharp feeling that Colonel O'Neill probably had a lot of feelings to air. 

''We'd better get going.'' He signalled for the bill and finished off the last forkful of pasta. ''We need to get groceries and I'll need to go home for a couple of hours this afternoon.'' 

She couldn't help but feel disappointed. Despite the tension, the feeling that they had unfinished business, he was still around and that was, sadly, almost enough for her. ''Okay. I could get the groceries and you could go home right away?'' she suggested. That way he'd be back all the sooner. 

''It's fine. I'll help. Besides, you don't know what I like to eat.'' 

''I thought you ate everything.'' 

''I *can* eat everything, doesn't meant I *want* to. There's a difference.'' 

Well, that certainly told her. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

* 

* 

* 

* 

Sam's first thoughts upon seeing her employer were purely superficial: she just didn't look like a Goa'uld. 

The lack of gaudy clothing, preposterous jewelry, was one reason for Sam to be at a loss. However, more probably, it was the fact that she was wearing Earth clothes. After all, Hathor hadn't looked like a Goa'uld when she'd been dressed in BDUs. This Goa'uld, dressed in some designer women's tux, looked the epitome of a fashionable businesswoman. An Earth businesswoman. 

Which was just... wrong. 

''Ms Clorel. It's a.... pleasure.'' A hand was extended - long, tapered fingers, neat French manicured fingernails and a thick gold ring on her right third finger with an inscription Sam couldn't make out. The ring was the only piece of jewelry the woman was wearing. 

Instinctively, Sam reached out and shook hands with the Goa'uld, Mut. ''It's Sam, please. And thanks for hiring me, Ms Vautour,'' Sam said, trying to sound as bright and ignorant as any employee of Mut's would be. 

Pale, almost golden brown eyes swept Sam from top to bottom. The Goa'uld adjusted her stance and the straight sweep of blonde hair slid over her shoulder smoothly. ''Your qualifications were... appealing.'' 

Sam fidgeted deliberately, trying to give off the impression that she wasn't used to such scrutiny. Which she wasn't - she was just used to ignoring it and her body's reaction. Samantha Clorel - a clueless human - would react unknowingly. 

Ms Vautour's accent, at least, was impressive. Ever-so-slightly foreign. Sam was no good at languages, but the way Mut spoke was almost too good, too perfect. No doubt Daniel would be able to pin the accent, but he wasn't here. She wondered whether the host had an accent originally - or if the symbiote had introduced it. If so - hadn't the staff noticed? It was possible that the Goa'uld had replaced all of the old staff - possible and probably the most likely scenario. She'd have to ask some discrete questions. 

''I expect Estelle has briefed you fully on your duties?'' 

'Duties'. Sounded like she was a slave, or a servant. Which was probably the whole point. 

Sam nodded obediently. Presumably 'Ms Buckingham', the woman who had trained Sam for the past four hours, was Estelle. Glancing at the woman now, Sam noted that she'd lost all of her earlier poise and businesslike attitude. The dark eyes were wide and alert. Afraid. Her fingers were twiddling with one of the buttons on her shirt. 

And if that wasn't a hint, Sam didn't know what was. She wondered, nervously, what exactly the Goa'uld in front of her had been doing here. 

''You understood the paperwork?'' 

Sam raised her eyebrows, expression still light. ''Well, I didn't really read it all...'' 

Ms Vautour smiled very, very slightly. In fact, it wasn't really a smile at all. The reddened lips just moved a little. The sharp, pale cheekbones didn't even shift with the effort. ''You understand, we have some exclusive clients. The contract means you will be unable to speak about our clients outside of Luxur.'' 

Sure, *that* was the reason. 

Sam nodded and smiled. ''Sure. That sounds fine. Maybe I'll meet some famous people.'' 

''Maybe you will.'' Still watching Sam closely, Ms Vautour gestured to Estelle. ''Take Sam,'' she pronounced Sam's name with considerable distaste, ''to the uniform room. See that she is properly attired. Then, that is all for today. We will see you tomorrow night.'' She nodded tightly to Sam and then walked off, winding through the already laid tables towards the iron spiral staircase that led up to the second level. 

''That's her office, up there,'' Estelle said, as they both watched Ms Vautour make swift work of the staircase. ''It's strictly prohibited to everyone but her and the, ah, bodyguards.'' 

''Guards?'' 

''Um,'' she looked around, then pointed to a man who was leaning against the bar, casually reading a newspaper. ''There's one of them.'' 

Looking to where Estelle was gesturing, Sam smiled slightly. Her intense surveillance of Ms Vautour had meant she hadn't surveyed the room as thoroughly as she ought to have done and had therefore missed an important discovery. Colonel O'Neill would be so disappointed. 

A Jaffa was leaning against the bar. 

''Surreal,'' Sam murmured helplessly. 

''Yeah. They're big guys,'' Estelle responded, thankfully misunderstanding Sam's comment. ''Don't know where she picked them up. When I first started working here, she only had two - now there are eight in total. I don't quite know what she needs them for.'' 

Quite. 

Sam would, of course, need to get closer to find out if he was an actual Jaffa or just some tall, broad guy with a charcoal symbol on his forehead. The symbol being, of course, the vulture. The same symbol that was on all the business cards for Luxur, on the headed paper, on the napkins, the bottom of the plates, the cutlery and the backs of the chairs. 

No doubt it would be somewhere on the 'uniform' as well. 

Obviously aware that she had yet to follow her boss's orders through, Estelle seemed to snap to attention. ''Let's get you to the uniform room. No doubt you want to get home as soon as possible. Come with me.'' 

* 

The Colonel's first response to her uniform was the biggest, most entertained grin Sam had ever seen on his face. He put down his beer and stood up. ''Well...'' he managed, his voice shaking. 

''Don't say it.'' She pulled off her shoes, threw them violently against the wall and then dropped the bag full of her 'normal' clothes onto the ground. She stalked over to her duffel back - she'd yet to unpack - and found her jeans and a T-shirt. ''Not a word,'' she muttered, going into the bathroom to change. 

She heard him laugh. She *definitely* heard him laugh. 

The little skirt got folded up, the little top as well. The pantyhose were rolled up neatly. Then she changed into real clothes as quickly as possible. 

By the time she made her way out of the bathroom, the Colonel had got his face under control. Or he did until he saw her. Then he grinned again. ''Not your style, Carter?'' 

She swore at him and threw the clothes onto the bed. ''God - I wish I'd opted for changing there.'' 

''How was it?'' 

''The waiting tables stuff is normal. I can handle that. It's the... niceties I can't handle. Oh, and she's definitely a Goa'uld. Ms Vautour.'' 

''Vulture.'' 

''Huh?'' 

''Vautour,'' he said, looking uncomfortable. ''It's French. For vulture.'' 

She stared at him. 

''What? I can't know French?'' 

She continued to stare at him. 

''Carter. Get on with your report.'' 

Sam shook off the surprise - she supposed she ought to get used to these spontaneous bits of random information. He had, after all, traveled a lot in his career. ''Okay - so I guess she must have changed her name. She's indescribably creepy, of course. The reaction of her staff.... She has these guards - big guys with the vulture symbol in the middle of their foreheads. I couldn't get close enough to find out if they were actually Jaffa, but that's definitely the whole idea.'' 

''If they're Jaffa - you gotta wonder where the symbiotes came from.'' 

''Exactly. I suppose... she could be another one of those... Hathor-type Goa'ulds. A queen.'' 

He made a face. ''Don't get too close to her.'' 

''No, I don't think that's a problem. The men I came in contact with seemed afraid of her. The women too. But Hathor's own brand of persuasion could be just that - her own brand. This Mut may have another trick up her sleeve.'' 

The Colonel nodded and then bent down to pick up a pad of paper and a pencil. He held them out to her. ''Show me about the layout. I want to know everything - windows, skylights, exits, stairs, rooms. Everything.'' 

* 

_Day eight in the Goa'uld palace, Sam thought as she opened her eyes to face the morning. She reached up and rubbed at her face before rolling onto her stomach and just lying there._

_Boredom had set in, for Sam, approximately three days after they'd figured out how to decrease the addictive properties of the machine. Her interest in the translation of the text in the palace had waned as soon as it had stopped being useful in relation to figuring out the Goa'uld technology. Daniel, however, spent most of his time with his nose pressed to a wall and a notebook in hand._

_''You awake?''_

_She grunted into the pillow, and then managed a, ''Sir.''_

_He sighed. ''What do you want to do today, then, Carter?''_

_''I oughtta go for a run. All that ice-cream yesterday....'' She lifted her head and made a face at him on her right. _

_Colonel O'Neill continued to stare up at the ceiling. ''Daniel got up about two hours ago - went back to work.''_

_Sam managed to look at her watch. ''He only came to bed three hours before that.''_

_He nodded. ''You know Danny...''_

_''There's got to be something to do here.''_

_''Twister?''_

_As soon as he said it, she saw him tense up._

_They'd played Twister yesterday - and it had resulted in the two of them falling into a decidedly overly-intimate position. Of course, they'd flung themselves away from each other as fast as possible but if she thought about it, she could still feel the imprint of his body over hers._

_''Bad idea,'' he murmured._

_''Yeah,'' she replied._

_The Colonel turned to look at her, and she felt her heart skip. There was just *something* about him that was almost painfully appealing. 'Painfully' because she couldn't have him. ''But it was fun.''_

_She smiled. ''It was,'' she said softly. While things were by no means back to normal between the two of them, it was steadily getting closer, even if she no longer knew what was normal for them. She guessed they were getting used to it. They'd certainly had a lot of setbacks in the last few months. _

_'Setbacks' being the understatement of all time._

_''Did you mean what you said?''_

_''About it being fun?''_

_''No. That day... on the beach.''_

_''Which day? We've been on the beach every....''_

_''When you said... when you said you wouldn't keep this,'' he gestured between the two of them, ''up if we lived here forever.''_

_Sam blinked. She'd really thought this was going to be another thing they didn't talk about ever again. ''Um...''_

_''I mean, you were talking about...'' He winced and shook his head. ''Never mind, Carter.''_

_''I was.'' It seemed important, suddenly, to get this out into the open. If it was the only time they ever did it. ''I mean, I was talking about... the title thing,'' she managed, uncomfortably._

_''Right. That's what I thought.''_

_''But you were having none of it, as I recall.''_

_''I was in withdrawal.''_

_''So? Does that mean you agree with what you said on the beach, or you didn't?'' She just wanted to have that point clear in her mind. Had he adjusted to there being no chance for them? Because it certainly had sounded like it._

_''It means... I was in withdrawal.''_

_Sam smiled bitterly. ''Right. That's what I thought.'' She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the camp bed. ''Well, I think I'll go and get something to eat.''_

_''Sure. You do that.''_

_She walked off, bare feet slapping against the floor of the palace. And distinctly heard him swear._

* 

The light turned on. 

Scrunching up her eyes defensively, Sam complained. ''Hey, turn that off.'' 

''Carter. Get up.'' 

Shielding her eyes from the light, Sam managed to pry one open. Then, all thoughts of sleep vanished as she took in the room. Colonel O'Neill had clearly been the one who'd turned on the light, because his right hand was still on the lampshade. However, his left hand was wrapped around his sidearm. Which was aimed, perfectly steadily considering it was his left hand, at Maybourne. 

Who was standing in the middle of the room, smiling. 

''Oh, hey,'' Sam managed, somewhat bemused. She'd known Maybourne would have to turn up sooner or later, she just hadn't expected it to be this... sneaky. 

''Major, Colonel.'' He nodded genially at the both of them, then fixed Sam with a look. ''If I'd known you were going to be having guests, I would have arranged for you to have a bigger apartment.'' 

She didn't know what to say - she realized she would have to explain her CO's presence, she didn't know how to put it. ''Well, um, he was kind of... unexpected.'' 

Maybourne looked at the Colonel, the smile broadening to a grin. ''I suppose it was inevitable, really, wasn't it? Good morning, Jack. Comfortable?'' 


	12. Chapter Twelve

* 

* 

* 

''I'd really feel more comfortable if you put the gun down, Jack.'' 

''Tough.'' 

''Jack, I'm unarmed.'' 

''That just tells me that you're more stupid than I thought.'' 

''Guys, come on,'' Sam said, knowing that witty 'Dangerous O'Neill' banter could go on for some time. She knew Colonel O'Neill wouldn't actually shoot Maybourne right then and there and blow the whole operation before they knew what was going on, but she didn't have the patience to wait out their pissing contest. 

''Colonel, please put the gun down. How did you get in here, Maybourne?'' 

He held up his right hand, and a key dangled, the metal glinting in the lamplight. She supposed she ought to have known he'd have a key - he was Maybourne after all - but the idea that a man who she certainly didn't trust and whose motivations were entirely suspect, could come in whenever he chose was, frankly, alarming. 

''Give me that,'' Colonel O'Neill ordered, his right hand coming away from the light so he could hold it out expectantly. 

The key was swiftly tucked back into a pocket. ''I have copies.'' Maybourne shrugged genially. ''What would be the point?'' 

Sam shook her head. ''It's too early in the morning to be doing this. Maybourne, what the hell do you want?'' 

''An update, of course! You didn't think I'd just abandon you, did you? Ah, is this the layout of the restaurant?'' He pounced on the pad of paper sitting on the coffee table and tilted the map to the light, his blue eyes running over the lines thoroughly. ''Very neat, Major, your work I presume?'' 

She nodded slightly. ''What do you want to know?'' 

''You got the job today. They train their waitresses very well, I'm told.'' 

The Colonel lowered the gun, but kept it in his hand. He swiveled out of bed and stood up in his T-shirt and boxers. ''Told by whom?'' 

Apparently, Maybourne chose to ignore that question. ''And you will have met the Goa'uld.'' 

''Yes, I did.'' 

He nodded, pleased, and tore off the sheet of paper. ''Good. I'm going to borrow this, if you don't mind.'' 

''Hey, I do!'' Sam's CO exclaimed. 

Maybourne glanced at Sam. ''You have a good memory, don't you, Major? You can draw yourself another one.'' 

Sam rolled her eyes. ''Couldn't you just wait until tomorrow? I'll photocopy it and you can pick it up or something. Are you staying somewhere? We could even deliver it, if you like, Maybourne.'' 

He shook a warning finger at her. ''Can it, Major. Considering all I'm doing for you...'' 

''Yeah, about that...'' 

Maybourne held up a hand. ''Now, now, Colonel. You don't want to know. I'm sure the Major doesn't want you to know either.'' 

''The Major is in a lot of trouble right now and I'm not sure you're the best person to get her out of it,'' the Colonel said through his teeth. 

Well, Sam thought, at least she knew that Colonel O'Neill wanted to help her redeem herself. Presuming that was what he was talking about. 

''And you are, Colonel?'' 

''At least she can trust me.'' 

He had a point. 

''Trust is overrated. Major Carter is doing some work for me for which she will be repaid appropriately.'' Smiling that damn creepy smile again, he looked back at Sam proudly. ''I already have the paperwork arranged. Hammond will be informed shortly that you are working undercover on a mission of great importance.'' 

Sam blinked. ''Already? But I haven't completed the mission yet.'' 

''SG-1 as a team are phenomenal. With even just the two of you, I'm sure the mission will be a complete success.'' 

So nice that a treasonous ex-Air Force officer had so much faith in them. 

''Just what exactly do you want Carter to do, Maybourne?'' 

''Give her some time to get comfortable, infiltrate and get people to trust her. Then we'll discuss the next step.'' 

''I want to know the next step now, Maybourne.'' 

''Jack, I appreciate your role as Major Carter's overprotective CO, but you have to understand...'' He chuckled. ''... I enjoy being mysterious.'' 

*That* didn't go down well. The Colonel was rapidly heading towards enraged - which really wasn't pretty. 

Sam jumped up quickly and walked to Maybourne, trying to diffuse the situation. ''Take the map, Maybourne. We need to sort out a safe place to hide everything, anyway. It's not like the security's fantastic,'' she said dryly. 

''True enough. Little I can do about that, I'm afraid.'' Looking over her shoulder at the Colonel, Maybourne gave him a little smarmy wave. ''I'll see you both around.'' 

Hurriedly, Sam ushered him out of the apartment, closing the door behind him with relief. ''I didn't even hear him come in.'' 

''I did.'' He flicked the safety on and dropped his gun back in the bedside table drawer. ''Jesus, he's a piece of work.'' 

''You've worked with him before, though.'' 

The Colonel looked at her sideways and picked up his watch. ''Three-thirty in the morning. I think we ought to get some sleep.'' 

Sam crossed her arms across her chest. ''Why won't you tell me?'' 

''You know why I won't tell you.'' 

''You don't trust me anymore, is that it?'' She shook her head. Fine. So she'd messed up to an extent she'd never messed up before in her life. But... they had to have more than that, didn't they? He had to be able to forgive her, didn't he? ''Did you *ever* trust me?'' 

''Carter, I'd trust you out in the field any day.'' 

She moaned and closed her eyes. Trust her in the field. Perfect. Anywhere else? A big, resounding 'No'. ''Tell me that's not just because of this... this *mess*.'' 

''Go to sleep, Carter.'' 

Actually, she didn't think that was likely. She was pretty pissed off now - and while part of her knew she was being unreasonable, part of her was starting to stick up for herself. It wasn't as if she'd ever screwed up before, was it? She helped save the world on a daily basis, went through professional crisis that would send a normal person completely crazy, was an emotional rock through four years of nightmare situations - but one slip up and suddenly she was kicked to the curb. 

He switched off the lamp and climbed into the bed that she'd yet to sleep in, his back to her. As far as he was concerned, the conversation was clearly over. 

Sam continued to stand in the middle of the room. 

She didn't know what to do. 

* 

_Well, this is surreal._

_She didn't know what time it was, and she could hardly pull away from him to check her watch. Not that she really wanted too. _

_SG-1 had gone out for a little post-Hathor-kicking-ass-again party - which had basically meant going to O'Malley's for a meal and then drinking a lot while playing several games of pool. The Colonel and Sam had been on one team, Teal'c and Daniel on the other._

_Both Teal'c and Daniel had complained about being on the same team. After all, Teal'c had pointed out, both Major Carter and O'Neill had far more experience in the game than either him or Daniel._

_''Yeah,'' Daniel pointed out, ''Sam's a shark.''_

_But the Colonel had refused to swap Sam with either one of them._

_In fact, the whole night long, he'd refused to leave Sam's side. He'd sat next to her at the table, he went with her to the bar to get the drinks and he was even on the same team as her._

_But she sure as hell wasn't going to complain about it. Particularly since she was having exactly the same problem. Only supreme self control stopped Sam from following him into the bathroom. She didn't know *what* was going on with them._

_Until the moment the taxis had arrived to take them home. Since Daniel and Sam lived closer to each other, one taxi had been called for them, the other was to take Teal'c back to base and then to take the Colonel on home._

_Sam had kissed Teal'c good-bye, then shoved Daniel forcefully into the taxi, before turning around and - over-exuberant with a job well done and too much beer - also kissing her Colonel on the cheek._

_Somehow, they'd ended up hugging._

_''Er... guys?'' came Daniel's voice._

_''Be there in a sec, Daniel,'' the Colonel said, chuckling. His hand came up to cup the back of her head and he moved his head, resting his chin on her shoulder. ''Thanks for coming back for me, Sam.''_

_''We don't leave people behind. You think I'd just forget that?''_

_Her CO chuckled. ''Not you. Definitely not you, Sam.'' He squeezed her really hard suddenly, stealing her breath, then, just as suddenly, let her go. She stumbled back and he reached out to grab her upper arm, smiled at her warmly. ''I'm glad you're you, Carter.''_

_''A woman *and* a scientist?'' she said teasingly._

_He laughed. ''Really glad.''_

_Daniel cleared his throat pointedly, leaning to look out of the window. ''See you on Monday, Jack.''_

_''See you on Monday.''_

_He raised his hand in goodbye, his eyes lingering warmly on warm, and then clapped Teal'c on the back. ''Time to go. What do you say we get pizza on the way home?''_

_Teal'c almost rolled his eyes. ''But you have only just eaten, O'Neill.''_

_''And who says I can't eat again?''_

* 

''I don't know what to say.'' 

He lay there silently and for the longest moment she though he had gone to sleep. 

Then, quietly, ''There's nothing to say.'' 

''There has to be.'' 

''Daniel's wrong, Carter. You can't fix everything with talking.'' 

''Well how else are we going to fix this?'' 

He rolled onto his back and she saw his hand move towards his face, probably to rub at his eyes. It was too dark to see exactly what he was doing so she crept a little closer to him. 

The Colonel held the hand out in front of his face, almost appealing to her. ''Look, Carter, I'm just having a little difficulty... getting used to you again.'' 

''Getting used to me? You have to get used to me? What the hell does that mean?'' 

''Exactly what I said. You've been gone for months. Months. Jesus. Why the hell didn't you call?'' he shouted suddenly, sitting upright and looking at her. ''I thought you'd died! Or someone had kidnapped you. Or you'd been murdered and were lying somewhere, bleeding to death. *God*, Sam. You completely disappeared.'' 

She blinked as his voice echoed around the room. This was a new one. She could count on one hand when he'd shouted at her. ''You thought I'd died.'' 

''Yes! What else was I supposed to think? It's not inconceivable that someone out there knows about Jolinar - NID or some godawful scientific body who wants to cut you open for medical research. You know there were rumblings about it afterwards. I thought it had finally happened. I thought...'' He stopped talking and began pushing the covers down his body. He was standing in front of her before she'd really had time to think about it properly, his hands going to her shoulders and shaking her. ''You *left* me. How the hell could you do that to me?'' 

Sam started shaking her head. ''I don't know,'' she said, weary with the whole situation. ''I just don't know. I'm *sorry*.'' 

His hands dropped from her shoulders, but moved down to grip her waist, the fingers warming her through the thin material of her top. She found herself being pulled towards him and since she was currently working very hard on not crying she allowed him to tuck her against him. And, since she was there in his arms anyway, it made sense to wrap her own arms around his neck and clutch at him, whispering apologies all the while, her mouth against his neck and his cheek pressed against hers. 

Eventually, they pulled away, both steadfastly avoiding each other's eyes. 

The Colonel cleared his throat. ''It's still way too early in the morning. We should get some sleep.'' 

''You're right. Goodnight, sir.'' 

''Night, Carter.'' 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Thanks too - in no particular order - Mel, Emry, Debbie, Kari and Kat. Um, if I missed anyone out that's due to my damn trigger happy deleting finger... 

* 

* 

* 

Crap, crap, crap, crap, Sam thought, desperately trying to read her own handwriting. Did that say...? No. No, that was a 'D' surely? Or maybe an 'n'? 

God, never before had she hated writing things by hand so much. Never before had she realized just how illegible her handwriting was either. It wasn't as if she wrote a lot of things out at the SGC - everything was done on computer (it was far easier to triplicate things, for one). 

"What are you doing? Growing roots?" one of the other waitresses demanded in irritation, pushing past Sam and shouting her order at one of the bar staff, then sticking the list to the board. 

Sam sighed internally and made an educated guess. She leaned over the bar, grabbed someone by the scruff of his collar and informed him of her order. He frowned at the last order (the one she had made up based on what it had sounded like). "A what?" 

"Oh, take this. See if you can make it out," she snapped, handing him her list. 

She ran into the kitchen next, grabbed a couple of bread baskets and pushed back through the still-swinging doors. Table eight demanded another bottle of wine, and table nine was *really* pleased to see her; they were ready to order. 

Determined to get it right this time, Sam poised her pen over her pad and carefully wrote out their order. It took longer but at least she wouldn't get called into the kitchen for an explanation. 

And her feet were starting to hurt. 

"Table six wants to see you," someone called out to her. 

That might well be - Sam didn't even know where table six was. She'd only found them by accident the last time. Scurrying into the kitchen, she looked at the layout board, running her eyes over the table numbers. Sam had been given a group of tables in the normal restaurant area - she was, after all, a junior waitress and therefore had to rise to the hallowed ranks of 'senior waitress' before she could serve the VIP guests in the VIP area. 

Finding table six (bizarrely, nowhere near tables seven or five), she hurried over there and apologized profusely, whipped out her notepad and pen for their orders. 

So far, Sam hadn't seen anything remotely unusual in the business. Ms Vautour had made an appearance as soon as all the tables were full - she'd greeted the occasional 'guest', coolly shaking their hands and murmuring, and then had made her way through the frosted double doors to the VIP area. She hadn't emerged since and Sam imagined she was probably dining with the guests in there. 

The majority of the guests were male - there were a couple of women around but they appeared to be fairly uncomfortable in their surroundings. 

Though what they were uncomfortable about, Sam couldn't figure out. 

The restaurant looked really normal to her. In the sense that it didn't look too... alien. Tables, tablecloths, candles, dark red walls and gold mirrors and gold framed paintings (gold seemed to be a running theme with the Goa'uld). The bar was ornate, with vases of lilies at each end, and the staff - both the male bar staff and female waiting staff - were dressed in black. The men were, luckily, allowed to wear pants while Sam and the other waitresses were stuck with..... 

She couldn't help it - she glanced down and winced. 

It was *the* tiniest skirt man had ever seen. She hadn't bent over all evening, even though her left calf was currently itching like crazy. 

The menu was clearly expensive - it didn't even have prices on it - and was written in French with no English explanation underneath. The majority of the guests had no idea what they were ordering - and Sam was thankful that the meals had numbers by their descriptions or she'd really be in trouble. She couldn't speak French, let alone write it. 

Maybe the Colonel should have got the job instead of her. 

Thinking of the Colonel, Sam recalled that she had yet to call him and it was nearly eleven. She delivered her latest order to the kitchen and quickly popped into the staff room. Thankfully, it was empty - she knew some of the staff took their break at eleven exactly so she didn't have much time. She unlocked her locker with the key tied around her wrist, pulled out her cell phone and called the Colonel's phone. She hung up after three rings and then shoved her cell back into her locker and slammed the door closed, just as someone walked in. 

"You're not due a break," the woman said sharply, eyeing Sam suspiciously. 

It was the same woman who had chastised her for taking too long at the bar. "I was just... checking my phone," Sam said, unable to come with a good excuse. 

She raised a dark, perfectly arched eyebrow. "Waiting for an important call?" 

The sarcastic tone reminded her of the Colonel. "You never know." 

"Are you an actress?" 

Sam blinked. What? "An actress?" Why would she think that? Did she *look* like an actress? 

The woman shrugged and walked over to the sink, plucking a glass from the shelf and turning on the faucet. "Some girls get jobs here because of the VIP guests." 

"They do?" 

"Yeah. We get a lot of famous people here." 

"Really?" Why? Sam wondered. It wasn't *that* great. "Who?" 

"Actors, directors, writers. They fly out." 

Sam's brows lifted. The VIP guests had an entirely separate entrance to the normal guests so she hadn't even seen anyone. "Did this place always get famous clients?" 

Sipping the water, the woman shook her head. "Never. Though I only got employed a few months ago. But then, so did most of the staff because a few months ago Ms Vautour fired all of the old staff. She was closed for several weeks while she had the place redecorated. It used to be... really tacky. She's really made some big improvements." 

'She' hadn't. The Goa'uld had. "Is she nice? I haven't spoken to her much." 

The water was poured swiftly down the sink. "You'll just have to wait and see. We ought to get back to work." She abruptly swept past Sam and pulled open the door. 

* 

_"Daniel. Get the remote."_

_"What? Why do I have to get the remote?"_

_"Coz Carter's sick, that's why."_

_From her position on the couch, the Colonel's blanket up to her chin and suede cushion under her cheek, Sam grinned at her CO. "Thanks, sir. Nice to know that if I wasn't sick, I'd be getting the remote."_

_"Only because Daniel's usually asleep at this stage."_

_Grumpily, Daniel slid off the end of the couch and picked the remote up from the coffee table. "Who put it there, anyway?" he grumbled, throwing it at Colonel O'Neill and then returning to minding Sam's feet for her. _

_Feeling another sneeze coming on, Sam turned her head to the back of the couch, her nose tickling. Typical, the contrary reaction refused to commence once she'd fully prepared herself for it and she was left with that irritating feeling of missing out. She reached between her side and the back of the couch, instead, and plucked up another tissue, blew her nose thoroughly without her arms even leaving the warmth of the blanket. The waste basket had been placed conveniently to her left so she just dropped the used tissue over the edge of the couch and then settled back._

_"Jack, please, no," Daniel said the moment the Colonel flicked channels to a hockey game._

_"Aw, come on. I've just had an hour and a half of mummies and sand - can't I have ten minutes of this game?"_

_Grudgingly, Daniel gave in and the four of them lapsed into quiet._

_"O'Neill," Teal'c said suddenly, "I do not consider myself proficient in this type of recreation, but I recall...."_

_"Teal'c. Not a word."_

_Sam frowned at the screen. She was also by no means a hockey enthusiast, though she took a passing interest in the game now that she knew Colonel O'Neill, but there was something really familiar about this particular game. They had actually watched a hockey game as a group yesterday and she could have sworn.... She closed her eyes, her brain hurting from too much thinking. _

_Suddenly, Daniel snorted. "Jack."_

_"Oh, crap. What do you want to watch next then?"_

_"We could turn off the TV and go to bed. It is half past eleven and Sam really should be resting."_

_"I hate sleeping when I'm sick," Sam muttered thickly, not looking forward to trying to sleep. She'd been dozing in and out of consciousness all day, first on her own couch at home, and then on the Colonel's. "I hate being sick."_

_"Which is why you're here," the Colonel pointed out, getting up to turn the TV off. He came to stand next to her as she lay on the couch and she looked up at him dopily. He smiled and one of his hands reached down to touch her forehead. "You're still a little warm."_

_She didn't think he'd ever touched her as much in their entire relationship. If she didn't feel like crap, she would have enjoyed it far more. As it was, her hair was lank and dirty, her face was unwashed and she was quite sure she smelled of the syrups she'd been downing at regular intervals. "I feel cold."_

_"Bed, then. Come on."_

_Making a complaining noise, she allowed him to help her to stand - and found, much to her dismay, that she actually needed the help - and Daniel picked up the blanket from the floor. The Colonel kept her hands in his and started backing towards his downstairs spare room, his eyes on her face the whole time. He clicked his heel on a side table and swore, making Sam giggle. "I can walk there by myself," she told him, not really wanting him to take her word for it. _

_''You know it's more fun for me this way. I never get to see you all pathetic and full of snot."_

_"Colonel!"_

_Daniel and Teal'c, carrying the various medicines, tissues and blankets that they had earlier gone out to get for her, groaned. _

_"Get a move on, Jack."_

_Colonel O'Neill bumped against the door, released one of her hands to reach for the handle. "You guys are no fun."_

_He pulled back the covers on the bed while Sam stood out of the way. Teal'c folded the blanket onto the base of the bed and Daniel arranged the bottles and packets of pills on the table. When they were done, Sam climbed into the bed, shivering at the cool sheets. She grinned at the three of them. "Thanks, guys."_

_"Need anything else, Carter?"_

_"Glass of water?"_

_"I will get it," Teal'c said, smiling slightly at his teammate, and then leaving the room._

_"Cuddly toy? Night-light?"_

_She gave him a dirty look. Well, as dirty as she could manage when halfway through the urge to sneeze overwhelmed her and she hurriedly turned her face into the pillow. "*ACHOO*"_

_"Good one," Daniel applauded. "I would kiss you goodnight, but you're revolting."_

_"I'll get you back," she sniffed pathetically, reaching for her tissues. "Night, *space-monkey*."_

_The Colonel chuckled. "Night, Carter. Sleep well."_

_"Doubt it, but thanks, Colonel."_

_Teal'c deposited the glass of water where she could easily reach it. "I hope to find you improved in the morning, MajorCarter." He placed a light hand on her head affectionately. "Good night."_

_"Thanks, Teal'c."_

_The three of them left the room, the Colonel closing the door. _

_Okay, Sam reflected. So a girl could do much worse._

* 

The bed was empty when she got back to the apartment. She called out his name softly as she closed and then locked the door behind her. When he didn't respond, she felt irrationally angry and kicked off her horrible shoes a little more forcefully than was necessary. 

Her arches screamed as she let her feet be flat on the ground for the first time in several hours, and she made her way mincingly over to the bathroom. It, too, was empty and she wiped off her makeup, muttering unsavory things about him. Her clean face looked back at her crossly, and she realized it was probably unwise to lose her temper with him when - if - he came back. She would just go to bed and tell him all in the morning. 

Having decided that, and having changed into her sleepwear, Sam realized that the bed was infinitely more preferable to the couch. Decisions, decisions... 

The bed it was then. 

Her bones sighed as she stretched out on the mattress. God, that was good... One by one, her tired muscles relaxed themselves. It was almost painfully comfortable. 

Which was why, seemingly minutes later, Sam furiously punched out at whatever was trying to wake her up. 

"Carter, Jesus!" 

She groaned. "Sorry. But, please, leave me alone." 

"It's six in the morning, Carter. I am not going to sleep on that couch any more. Move over." 

"No." 

"Fine." 

The bed dipped, and a dark shape loomed behind her firmly closed eyelids. Then, as her sleep-deprived brain finally snapped into action, she sat upright. "What the hell are you doing?" 

"I'm six-three, Carter. The couch is five-ten at the most. You're the one with the brain; do the math." 

She watched him roll onto his side, his back to her, and snapped her gaping mouth closed. "Where've you been?" 

"Tell you in the morning." 

"It is the morning." 

"Carter!" 

"Okay, okay, sorry." She slid down under the covers once more, also turning her back on him, but extremely aware that if she shuffled backwards a couple of inches their bodies would touch. 

That thought alone was unreasonably appealing. 

For several minutes, Sam lay on her side, staring at the bedside table. He was warm, half-dressed and very, very close. 

Sighing, she sat up and slid her legs out of the bed. The couch it was, then. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Flashback scene is for Sandy. Because she asked. 

As usual, with thanks to Debbie G, Emry, Kat and Sandy. 

* 

* 

* 

For a while, Sam just watched him, almost mesmerized. All the men on SG-1 certainly packed away their food, but she didn't think she'd ever seen the Colonel eat so much. She knew better than to comment on it, now, and instead glanced around the diner. She'd long since finished her breakfast and was impatiently waiting for the Colonel to finish his meal so they could start talking about the previous night. 

When he was done, he wiped his mouth on his napkin and picked up his coffee. She smiled at him encouragingly and he raised his eyebrows. "What?" 

Oh for... Was he doing this deliberately? "Nothing, sir." 

Finally giving in, he inclined his head. "Go on, Carter, give me the report you've been dying to give me." 

She half rolled her eyes. "I got great tips." 

"Course you did." 

"I don't know why though. I'm a terrible waitress." 

The Colonel laughed, his eyes crinkling up. "I can picture that. Didn't spill anything on anyone did you?" 

"A couple of close shaves... maybe tonight." 

"Let's hope so. Anything interesting happen?" 

"I found out the VIP guest tend to be more VIP than you'd think - Hollywood exports, apparently." 

"I did see a couple of swanky cars pull up front." 

"So you were watching?" 

"I said I'd be around." 

She supposed she ought to have realized that. "I didn't get to see who was in last night. The VIP guests have VIP waitresses - not junior waitresses like me." 

"I'm sensing a goal, Carter." 

Sam sighed. It had crossed her mind too. "But beyond that, there's nothing strange going on that I can see. The restaurant only does one cover a night which, I guess, shows how successful the place is. There is...." She trailed off, unsure as to how to continue. 

"What?" 

She made a face. She didn't like to make guesses, after all, and Colonel O'Neill was a facts man. "There's this feeling about the place." 

He put down his coffee and looked at her placidly. "What kind of a feeling?" 

"Well, it's difficult to describe so I'll give you an example. There were a couple of women guests there. Young women, mostly. Early twenties." She snorted. "Usually with men twice their age, but that's not the point. They looked... nervous." 

"Perhaps they'd heard about the reputation of the place. It was pretty sleazy before it came under new management, from all accounts." 

"No. It wasn't that. Maybe nervous isn't the right word. I'd say afraid but...'' She thought back, trying to judge the snapshots of the women she had in mind, ''Yeah. Afraid." 

"Of what?" 

"That's just it - I couldn't see anything to be afraid of. It was just a feeling I got. Ms Vautour made her entrance at about nine. She greeted some of the larger tables, some of the men she knew already. All cool smiles and silk dress. Flirted subtly, but not in a Hathor way." 

"Right. After that?" 

"She went into the VIP room. And stayed in there all night. The waitresses that worked in there come in and out but there's some kind of a curtain beyond the doors so you can't see anything when they leave. When the main restaurant was clear, and everything was cleaned, we were sent home by Ms Buckingham...." 

"The woman who trained you." 

"Yeah. She's not quite a head waitress. She seems to be more like the maitre d' - seats everyone and knows everyone's names." 

"Did she go into the VIP room?" 

She frowned. "Yeah, she did. But she seemed to be in charge of running the main restaurant so she came and went." 

"Did you speak to the other waitresses?" 

"A couple, but not very much. They're all very busy and slightly competitive. I have a feeling the VIP waitresses get paid better, but I'll have to check that out. All of them were employed after the renovation - the previous staff had been laid off. I suppose because the new management was so... different from the old management." 

"Reasonable. And the guards?" 

She shook her head. "Not Jaffa. But I've only met four of them - they rotate their shifts. While they're not on the door, they're behind the bar with the bar staff. There are three guards who stayed in the VIP room all night, I only saw them briefly when we were setting the tables and they were too far away for me to able to sense anything." 

"Right. Vautour made no indication that she found you more interesting than the other waitresses?" 

"Didn't even look at me." 

He made a face and rubbed his hand over his eyes. "Okay. I guess you're going to have to get competitive too. There's clearly something going on in that VIP room." 

"What if there isn't?" Sam blurted, leaning forward slightly. 

The hand dropped from his face. "What?" 

"What if there isn't? What if... it's just where the VIP guests can have some privacy?" 

"Carter... she's a *Goa'uld*." 

"I *know*. I was just wondering... what if this restaurant is a cover for something?" 

"We won't find out until you get into the VIP room and see what the hell's going on." 

They quieted as the waitress came over and removed their plates, chirping about how nice a day it was and asking if they wanted refills. Sam shook her head, but the Colonel asked for fifths of his coffee. 

When they were free to talk, Sam asked him what he had been doing so late the previous night. 

He grunted. "It wasn't so late. I just suffered on that couch for an abnormally long time." 

She winced. "You could have woken me up earlier." 

"I tried!'' he protested. "You've never slept so hard in your life. Honestly, missions off world never exhausted you that much." 

"The Air Force has nothing on waitressing," she said grumpily, feeling that her stamina was being mocked. 

Colonel O'Neill grinned. "So, while you were out pouring wine in people's laps, I was standing on top of a chilly, blustery building with my binoculars. A friend of mine swept the apartment for bugs at about half past eleven, so I dropped by to see him and we chatted about old, classified times, discussed a hockey game...." 

She was shaking her head. "What? What friend? You didn't tell me this." 

"Sorry. Must of forgot," he said casually. "Then it was back to the building across the street from Luxor to watch drunken men and their extremely junior partners get cabs home. I saw you leave and it looks like most of the waitresses live locally because you all walked off in different directions. I waited around for two more hours but in all that time - only the four guards you mentioned left. No more VIP guests. No swanky cars coming to pick them up." 

"Okay, there were eleven waitresses working the main restaurant, and six working the VIP room. Did you see the six other waitresses come out after us?" 

He smiled grimly and shook his head. "It was just starting to get light by the time I left. So.... something weird is going on." 

"What could it possibly be? Another cult? If these VIP guests are Hollywood stars, what the hell could they be doing in there that lasts until the next morning? That is, presuming they actually leave. There are only two exits that I know of." 

"I've checked that building out thoroughly. Two exits. Have you checked out the basement?" 

"Storage, dust, wine cellar and the three big freezers," she said shortly. "But I was only down there briefly. I'll try to get in there tonight.'' She leaned back as the waitress returned with the coffee jug. On the spur of the moment, Sam touched her on the arm and smiled. "What makes a good waitress?" 

The woman grinned. "Timing, of course." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah. And the ability to be invisible." 

"Thanks." 

"My pleasure. Anything else?" 

* 

_"Come on, Carter, concentrate."_

_Sam clenched her teeth in frustration, staring down at her hand. It was all very well him telling her to concentrate but she didn't know what she was concentrating on. Jolinar's memories were misty, tinted with forgetfulness and distinctly not her own. Instinct had her able to put the hand device on but instinct didn't tell her how to control it._

_Sighing with frustration, the Colonel looked at his watch. "Look, Carter, I have a meeting with Hammond and Joint Chiefs and I haven't even changed yet. I'm gonna send Teal'c down. Don't do a thing until he's here."_

_"Yes, sir," she said, dropping down onto the floor, relieved to be given a rest. The Colonel had been pretty hard on her - and, let's face it, she was being just as hard on herself - and she had been working on the hand device for nearly three hours._

_"Right. No touching anything." He waggled a warning finger at her and walked off._

_Alone in the room that Hammond had given over to Sam's 'practice', she looked at the various successes and failures. Furniture, small logs, machinery and lumps of rock had been brought in for Sam to blow up but she'd had little luck. While, occasionally, she got lucky and something either moved or exploded, it happened with no discernible logic. Concentration and relaxation seemed to be apparently key and, as the Colonel had pointed out, she wasn't exactly a relaxed person._

_Interestingly, she had more luck with the hand device than the healing device - or perhaps not interestingly. After all, she did carry a weapon frequently. Probably she had more experience with destruction than healing. _

_"CaptainCarter, O'Neill has sent me to you."_

_"Yeah. Hi, Teal'c. How's it going?" she said in an offhand fashion, glancing up from the scorched boulder several feet away from her._

_"Going?" he queried._

_She smiled faintly. "I'm referring to your day. How is your day going?"_

_"I see. It is *going* fine. I spent the morning with DanielJackson transcribing Goa'uld texts. I hope I have been of help to him."_

_"I'm sure you have, Teal'c. You know we appreciate all the knowledge you bring to the cause."_

_Teal'c inclined his head and stepped further into the room. Sam couldn't but help notice the fact that his eyes lingered on the hand device that was still strapped to her fingers. "Are you having much success with the weapon?"_

_She made a face and wiggled her fingers - half disturbed by, half afraid of the weapon she was cradling in the palm of her hand. "Not really. It doesn't seem to do what I tell it too."_

_"The Tok'ra, Jolinar, does not aid you?"_

_"Not in particular, Teal'c, no. He's not really being very helpful beyond how to put it on." She rose to standing and raised her hand, aiming for the boulder. Furrowing her brow, forcing her brain to concentrate powerfully on the boulder and what she wished to happen, Sam waited._

_And waited._

_"O'Neill mentioned you had difficulty in relaxing."_

_Sam imagined the Colonel had used other words to describe her, but she didn't say that. "Apparently I'm not a relaxed person."_

_"Would you like me to teach you some meditation techniques."_

_"But I'm supposed to be able to use this is a hostile situation, Teal'c. I can't just sit down, cross my legs and hum for five minutes before I am able to send the enemy across the room." Frustrated, Sam began plucking the thing from her hand, pinching herself in the process. "It just... it just gives me the creeps, Teal'c," she admitted, her voice a soft murmur of admittance._

_"By that, I take it you mean you are not comfortable using the device?"_

_"That's it. I'm not comfortable using it. I don't care if that makes me a coward I just..." She stopped talking, looking at the hand that had placed itself over her own. She looked up and saw the affection in his eyes was, for once, aimed at herself. _

_"It does not make you a coward. In fact, I myself am not comfortable with your use of the device. It is incongruous to see a weapon I have watched torment, punish and destroy on your hand, CaptainCarter."_

_She swallowed, feeling suddenly prickly eyed. "I feel... I feel like a freak, Teal'c. Even... if being invaded by a Goa'uld... I mean, a Tok'ra, wasn't bad enough, he's left me this legacy that I can't... I can't find in myself to like. And I think that's what's stopping me. Even though I know the Colonel, and Daniel even, see it as some kind of advantage..."_

_"You see it as an abomination."_

_Sam sighed, her shoulders slumping with relief that *somebody* saw what she saw. "The Goa'uld are evil, Teal'c. This is a Goa'uld weapon. I can't help but wonder who's used this device before me, what crimes they've committed on innocent people and no matter how hard I concentrate, how hard I try not to think about it, I think it's just blocking my ability to use it."_

_Teal'c nodded understandingly. "Have you mentioned this to Colonel O'Neill?"_

_"No. He wouldn't understand."_

_"He will understand, Captain Carter. You cannot be expected to use this device in combat if you cannot control it and you will not be able to control it if your mind is full of details such as you have explained to me. If you like, I will explain the situation to him."_

_She smiled; it was lovely of him to give her way out, an avoidance of a conversation that she wasn't going to relish, but she knew she couldn't accept. It would be the easy way out. "That's a nice offer, Teal'c, but I know I'll have to do it." She finished stripping the weapon off and then dropped it on the table with the healing device. "Thanks for the talk, Teal'c."_

_"If I have eased your mind in any way, it was my pleasure, CaptainCarter."_

* 

"There is something," Sam called from the bathroom as she worked on her makeup. She'd just been threading a pair of tiny gold hoops through her ears when she'd remembered. 

"What?" 

"Ms Vautour wears this ring. Gold.'' She stepped back to look at him as he lay on the bed, gray-socked feet crossed at his ankles, and Gameboy in hand. "It's got an inscription on it. I haven't got close enough to her yet, but it doesn't look human to me. It's the only jewelry she wears and I don't think she takes it off." 

"Wedding ring?" 

"I don't think so. Wrong hand." 

"Some cultures wear their wedding rings on their right hands." 

"Oh. In that case, it could be." Then what would that mean? That she was still faithful to her husband, Amun? 

"Try to get close. Memorize it as best you can." 

"Then what? Unless you picked up more Goa'uld than I think you have, we're not going to have much luck." 

He paused his Gameboy and looked at her, eyes narrowed just a little as they flicked up and down her. "I guess... I guess we'll have to get it translated." 

"Are you sure we should be bringing Daniel into this?" 

"I was thinking more along the lines of Teal'c, if he's on-world." 

She dropped her lipstick down on the glass ledge and stepped out of the bathroom. "What really happened between you and Daniel, sir?" 

He grunted and started his game again. "You don't want to know." 

"That bad?" 

"I'm not particularly proud of myself, Carter." 

"Okay, okay." This was obviously yet another conversation they were going to be avoiding for the time being. She glanced at her watch. "I'll be heading off then." She pulled a denim jacket on, wrapped her scarf around her neck and tugged on her hat. That was the good thing about her hair 'style' - hat hair was easily fixed by running her fingers through it. 

"Do you want my gloves?" 

She shook her head. "You'll need them more than me. I take it you'll be up on the building again? Unless you've got any more friends dropping by?" she added with heavy sarcasm. 

"I really did just forget." 

"Sure you did." 

"I did!" 

"Let's drop it, shall we?" 

"Carter..." 

"Night, sir." 

He sighed. "Night, Carter." 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

With thanks to (imagine fanfare)... Kat, Mel, Sandy and Emry. 

* 

* 

* 

Jesus... this wasn't good. This just... wasn't good. 

Sam thought the whole point of one-night stands was that you'd never see the guy again. It, and the guy, would remain forever shrouded in mystery and considerable guilt. He wasn't supposed to show up in the middle of one of the most important missions of her life. 

This was verging on a nightmare situation. 

She knew she couldn't hide in the staff restroom forever. For one thing, it had been ten minutes already; any longer and either Ms Buckingham would notice her absence or one of the other waitresses would tell on her. She also knew that she couldn't go out there. If 'Jack' saw her, her cover would be blown to hell and back. Since he seemed to be on particularly good terms with Ms Vautour- and, yes, that freaked her out completely - there was a distinct possibility that he would turn around and inform her that Sam had only a couple of weeks ago been working a bar which he'd visited. 

Which wouldn't suit her cover story at all. 

What she needed to do was call the Colonel. 

Who would ask her how she'd met this Hollywood superstar. 

And Sam would have to tell him. 

Shit. 

This was why personal and professional didn't mix. God only knew how he was going to react when she told him. And she knew she would have to tell him. This was work now. This was business. He would want to know all the facts, no matter how they could make him feel. 

Maybe... maybe Daniel Frakes wouldn't recognize her. Maybe he had one night stands a lot. Maybe there were women all over the country just like her and their faces would forever merge into one in his memory. It wasn't like she was particularly anything to remember. 

Unfortunately, she couldn't take that chance. 

"Ms Clorel?" 

Oh... crap. 

"I'm in here," Sam said, her voice coming out strangely weak. She decided that was good - the only way she could get out of there was if she faked being ill. 

"Are you all right?" came the surprisingly concerned voice. "I noticed you're not in the kitchen getting the specials." 

"I'm not feeling very well." Sam scrunched up her face, automatically feeling guilty for this one necessary lie. She had a feeling Ms Buckingham took all the flak if the restaurant didn't run as smoothly as Ms Vautour wanted it to. 

"Really? What's wrong?" 

"I think... I may have a stomach bug. I was afraid I was going to be sick; that's why I'm in here." 

"In that case, you should go home." The brisk, professional voice came back swiftly, and Sam was distinctly relieved. It was easier to feel neutral about the professional, cool businesswoman than it was for the caring employer. "Can't have the guests thinking it's the food." 

"No." 

"All right. I'll go and distribute your tables to the others." 

"Okay. Er.. thanks Ms Buckingham." 

"Call us tomorrow to tell us how you're doing. It may well be one of those twenty-four hour things." 

Leaning her head against the wall of the toilet, Sam nodded. "I hope so." 

* 

The Colonel beat her home. God knew how he did it, but the moment she walked through the door he was upon her, swiveling around to face her as she walked in. He appeared to have been pacing. "What happened?" 

Wanting to delay the inevitable for as long as possible, she grabbed her discarded clothes from the day before and went into the bathroom to change. 

"Carter?" he called through the door. 

"Give me a sec, okay?" 

He didn't respond and Sam stared at her reflection mournfully. She slapped at her cheeks a couple of times, trying to find the courage to face him. 

"Carter?" 

She sighed. "Okay, okay." She ran her hands through her hair and stepped out of the bathroom. 

He was still standing in the middle of the room, his hands deep in his pockets, a figure of barely restrained impatience. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. 

"One of the VIP guests was someone I knew." 

"I thought you waitresses didn't see the VIP guests." 

"We don't." She picked up his bag and went to sit on the couch. From inside, she pulled out the files, all the information they had. He carried them with him at all times - just in case they got any unexpected visitors in the apartment while they were both out. "It was an accident. I was stacking wine behind the bar, I'd been delayed because the cellar door was sticking, and the guest was early. Ms Vautour had to come down especially for him." 

"Did you overhear their conversation?" 

"No, they were too far away, but I did get to see them together. They looked very... comfortable. They must have met before. She took him into the VIP room a few minutes later and then summoned Ms Buckingham. That's when I made my break for the bathroom." 

"You didn't get spotted?" 

She shook her head. "I told Ms Buckingham I wasn't feeling very well and she sent me home." 

"Who was this guest you knew? Didn't realise your acquaintances included the rich and famous, Carter," he said wryly, coming to sit down next to her. 

Nervously, she looked at his hand that was lying on the couch between them. "Daniel Frakes." She glanced up at his face, smiled a little. Part of her was glad he didn't seem to know the film-star, just like she hadn't. "He's been in a couple of films recently. That Tom Cruise one, you know?" 

From the look on his face, the film didn't ring a bell. "I'll take your word for it. Are you good friends? I mean, he would definitely recognize you? When was the last time you saw him?" 

Her eyes went back down to his hand. 

"Carter?" 

There. He'd already picked up on it. 

The hand moved, the couch dipped as he stood up and walked away. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not gonna like this?" 

"He was the reason Maybourne found me," she admitted slowly. "Before... I was working in a bar. Daniel Frakes came in... we danced. Someone filmed us and it was on the local news." 

Silence. 

She couldn't even look up at him this time. She just knew he understood *exactly* what had happened between her and a virtual stranger. 

"You fucking slept with him, didn't you?" 

Oh God. This was going to worse than she thought. 

"Yes." 

The tension crackled. A long, solitary minute ticked by where Sam stared down at the floor and he... God knew what he was doing but she suspected he was glaring at her. She just couldn't look up. 

Then she did. 

But only because he left, slamming the door behind him. 

* 

For two hours, Sam sat on the couch and waited for him to return. Supposing he returned, that was. 

When that two hours was up, she decided she'd done enough waiting and that she would get ready for bed. 

The motions were easy, ingrained. Taking off her clothes, folding neatly, placing in one of the drawers. Her pyjamas were lying on the end of the couch where he had obviously tidied them away. It was strange to think of him handling her clothes, let alone her nightwear. Somehow bizarrely intimate. Her hands lingered over them a little longer than was necessary before she pulled on the strappy blue top and the cotton drawstring pants. 

Teeth cleaned, face toned and cleansed and every speck of makeup removed, she combed her hair. A sudden image - his fevered face as he was pinned to the wall by the alien communication device - hit her hard, sucking the air from her lungs. The comb dropped into the basin and she slowly lowered herself down onto the toilet seat as the tears rose so swiftly and suddenly to her eyes she didn't have time to prepare herself. 

Damn. She didn't think she was going to cry. The eye make-up remover stung her eyes and she reached for a towel, pressing it to her eyes as they streamed with tears and pain. 

When it was over, and thank God it was over quickly, Sam dried her eyes, feeling ashamed of herself. So she'd slept with someone else. Someone else? She wasn't even sleeping with him. Technically, he had no right to be angry with her. He had no rights over her - no one did and no one ever would - and it wasn't as if they had any kind of an understanding. It wasn't as if they'd ever sat down and told each other that dating anyone else was unacceptable. Even if they couldn't be together themselves. 

He came back at half past twelve and she was sitting on the couch, a sheet wrapped around her and only the light on his bedside table on. 

"God, you went out without a coat," were the first words she said, taking in his chilled appearance. 

Shivering, he nodded and kicked off his boots. Without saying a word, or undressing further, he walked over to the bed and climbed under the covers. 

Concerned - damn, but he was an idiot - she clambered over the coffee table to him. "Idiot," she muttered, tucking the sheet around him and pulling up the blanket from the base of the bed. She dropped her own sheet from around her shoulders and added that to the pile that was building up over him. She could only just see the top of his head, the grey mess of hair. "It would have been just as impressive if you'd stormed out with a coat." 

He groaned. "Just shut up. Are my feet sticking out?" 

She glanced at the end of the bed and shook her head. "No. Do you want me to find you another pair of socks?" 

"Please. There should be some thick ones in my bag." 

She crouched down by his bag and started sorting through his things. She found his socks and hurried to the base of the bed, sitting on the edge and turning up the covers to find his feet. She rolled a sock onto each foot, then quickly rubbed her hands up and down, using friction to generate some heat. It was kind of weird putting socks on a guy's feet but then... kind of sweet too. Like they were far closer than they actually were. 

"Okay. Now get in." 

She thought she'd heard him incorrectly. "What?" 

"I'm not kidding - get in. I'm freezing." 

Part of her was already in bed with him - but the rest of her knew this was exactly the type of situation she was trying to avoid. There would be no sleeping at opposite ends of the bed this time. She would be in bed with him for the warmth only close contact could provide. 

"You're not that cold." 

"It's below freezing out there, Carter." Sensing he wasn't going to get away with it, he lifted his head a little and looked at her. "If you get in, I'll answer anything you ask me." 

She blinked. "You swear?" 

"I swear." The head disappeared. "Get in bed." 

She grinned freely. Well, if he put it like that... how could she resist? 

Sam slid very carefully in next to him, trying not to bump against him too much, aware that she was wearing very thin night clothes. Colonel O'Neill seemed to have no qualms, however. His arms went about her quickly, and hard, drawing her tightly towards him and absorbing her warmth. He sighed deeply. "That's good." 

Honestly, he was getting far more out of this than he ought to be, Sam thought. She could feel his body relaxing against hers but as her eyes drifted closed, finally able to sleep now that he was back, she suddenly recalled just how he had convinced her to get into bed with him. 

"Hey!" she exclaimed, eyes opening. "Don't go to sleep!" 

He was smiling faintly, eyes closed. Sam ignored the stray thought that if she moved her head just a little she could press her lips to his throat. That was *so* not gonna happen. 

"Colonel..." 

This made him snort and one dark eye opened. "Colonel? You can still use that in bed with me?" 

She started to blush. "Yes. I can. You said you'd tell me anything I wanted to know." 

"I said I'd answer any questions you had for me," he reminded her pedantically. 

"Whatever." The eye closed again and he moved his head on the pillow, actually inching closer to her. She tried to ignore that too. 

"What's wrong between you and Daniel?" 

"We had an argument." 

"About what?" 

"Oh, God, you know. Daniel and me stuff. He didn't think I was doing enough to find you. He was wrong, but that didn't seem to be a problem for him." 

Great. Yet another friendship she'd ruined. Her heart sank further. "I'm sorry," she whispered, feeling inadequate. 

"I know you are." The hand that had been resting on her back rubbed up and down her spine restlessly. She guessed he was trying to be comforting, which was really off-putting. "I didn't mean to push him through the window, though. That definitely was an accident." He grinned. 

She didn't understand his glee at all. "You look pleased." 

Both eyes opened, wide with delight. "It was pretty funny." 

"Colonel!" 

"You should have been there - I know you would have laughed. It was an open window, did I tell you that?" 

She shook her head, grinning along with him helplessly. "How high off the ground?" 

"Oh, floor level. He fell into a bush. Man, I laughed so hard. He was really pissed and he stormed off, leaves on his ass." His shoulders shook and he turned his face into the pillow, chuckling. 

It was all so easy to imagine that Sam was having a hard time not laughing. "Poor Daniel." 

"Poor Daniel! You should have seen the bush! Completely flattened." This seemed to make him laugh harder. "Damn, I'm never gonna forgot that." 

"Why are you all on downtime?" 

"Initially, because of you. Obviously." He raised his eyebrows at her. "Then... well, General Hammond put us on stand-down while we looked for a temporary replacement. I think it was fairly obvious Daniel and I weren't seeing eye to eye, and Teal'c was just general pretty pissed with the both of us so he went to Chulak to see his son for a few days." 

She made a face. "Oh God, who did you get as a replacement?" Please, please, let him or her be awful, she prayed silently. 

"We didn't." 

"What?" 

"I... refused to participate. Which was why I was at home the week you called." 

"I don't understand." 

"Hammond sent me home. Told me to cool down. Which I did by getting spectacularly drunk several days in a row." He gave her a big, fake grin. 

"My God, Colonel... "That nauseous feeling just had to be a new, delightful form of guilt for her. "I'm so....." 

"Don't. Not about this. You know I don't deal very well with... stuff." 

"Stuff." 

"That's what I said." He gave her a hard, uncompromising look. "Stuff." 

She began to get a strange idea. "The day that I called... the first time... your wife picked up." 

"Ex-wife." Well, that was a relief, and it must have showed on her face because he smiled, one hand coming up to touch her cheek. "Idiot," he murmured affectionately. 

"She was there because..." she began, trying to encourage him to continue. 

"Daniel called her." He made a face. "He didn't think it was safe to leave me alone, yet he wasn't talking to me, so he got me a chaperone. I don't know where he got her number, probably off my file, though how he... never mind. I couldn't believe it at the time. Sara wasn't particularly impressed either. She threw a bucket of water over me." 

Now *that* made her laugh. "Really? I must spend more time with this woman." 

"I hope you're kidding." 

"Totally, sir." 

The hand that was currently stroking her cheek slid down her throat. She shivered just a little, waiting to see what it would do next, but, disappointingly, it just rested on her shoulder for a moment before moving back down under the covers and ending up on her back again. 

"Though," he continued, eyes on her neck, "since you were sleeping with someone else at the time..." Colonel O'Neill's eyes came back to her and she felt herself tense up. "It would be fairly hypocritical of you to condemn me for being with another woman." 

She swallowed. "It would, yes," she managed, slowly enunciating the words. 

"Then again," he smirked, "I did walk past a video store on the way back from my little walk." 

"Little - you were gone for three and a half hours!" 

"And I saw a poster for one of his films in the window." 

Why was he smirking like that? 

Oh wait. 

He was grinning now, probably because she was looking so mortified. "He kinda reminds me of someone, Carter. Wonder who?" 

"Oh please, like you look like a movie star," she said, trying to get as much disgust in her voice as possible, all the while not looking him in the eye. 

"You're probably right." 

She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. She could sense he was still smiling, still looking at her. His arms were still around her, his legs tangling with hers. "He went by the name Jack, too," she whispered, biting her lip and turning her face into the pillow, feeling her blush prickling her hairline. 

"You understand... I'm still not thrilled." 

"Yeah." Her voice was muffled by the pillow. 

"But... I'll deal. Right?" 

"Right." 

"Okay. Guess you were pretty pissed after Edora." 

It was easy to imagine it. Easy because she'd thought about it fairly consistently. She'd gone through a phase shortly after the Zatarc testing when she brought up all the reasons *not* to be in love with him. Edora had been pretty high on the list. "Words do not describe." 

"Good." 

She turned her head back to him. "Good?" 

"Good," he repeated. 

"All right. Jealousy isn't an attractive emotion." 

"It is when someone's being jealous over you." 

Yeah, she supposed that was true. "It still feels like I cheated on you." 

"Emotionally, I suppose you did." He shifted slightly and she didn't know it was deliberate but he slid one leg further between hers. She watched him intently, searching for a sign that he was making a move, but she saw nothing in his face that suggested any duplicity at all. 

Maybe she was reading too much into it. Maybe, since he was clearly warm now, she should move back to the couch. It wasn't an appealing thought, but she didn't want to get too comfortable in bed with him. 

The leg moved again. 

Definitely intentional. 

"Okay, stop it," she ordered sharply. 

In a move she really should have seen coming, he rolled on top of her, hands sliding easily up her top to rest below her breasts. "You should have seen it coming," he told her, mimicking her thoughts. 

He was entirely too charming. "Get off." 

"I'm just reaching for the light," he said, innocently reaching over to the lamp. 

"And you needed to lie on me to do that." Goddammit, was that laughter in her voice? Was she amused by this? This blatant advantage-taking on his behalf? 

She used to be so *good* at being restrained around him. 

Then again, she never used to hop into bed with him either. 

The following darkness didn't improve matters in the least. Firstly because he didn't appear to be moving off of her, secondly because she found her body was totally enjoying every moment of it, and lastly because the darkness somehow added just enough secrecy to the matter to make it somehow more... acceptable. 

His head lowered. "See... I figure the cold... has influenced my sense of responsibility." 

Really, that ought to have jolted her. Given her a reason to push him off. "I can see that." 

His head lowered further, her vision suddenly filling with him. And she didn't mind at all. 

His mouth just touched hers, then he pulled back, as if waiting for her to protest. *That* was her moment. Later, Sam would remember that clearly. That he had given her the chance to say no, to tell him to get the hell off of her for real. She didn't, however. 

There was no resistance on her part whatsoever. 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

With thanks to Emry and Sandy 

* 

* 

* 

Knocking. 

*Knocking* 

Knocking? 

She sat up shakily, hands braced on his rapidly rising and falling chest. It took her a couple of moments to get her breath back. "Who the hell is that?" she whispered, using one hand to wipe across her mouth, swollen and damp. 

His hands were halfway up her ribcage and slowly moving down, fingers dragging at her heated skin. His eyes were closed, face scrunched up. "I _cannot_ believe this." 

The knocking continued. 

Reaching over the bed, Sam grabbed her top and struggled into it. It was inside out but at the moment she didn't really care. She scrambled off of him and padded over to the door. Close up, she couldn't feel anything unusual. "Who is it?" she called. 

"Sam? Sam, is that you? 

"Daniel?" 

"Of course. _Daniel_," came a severely disgruntled voice behind her. 

Sam's fingers went to the locks, only stopping when she heard a hiss behind her. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw he was pulling a T-shirt on. "One moment; I'm just getting dressed." She scurried back over to the bed and yanked a sheet off, dodging her CO and throwing it over the couch. Behind her, the Colonel was folding up the jeans that she'd only just pulled off, trying to make the bed look as though he and his 2IC hadn't just been rolling around in it. 

For God's sake... 

She ran her hands over her hair and blew out a breath before pulling open the door. "Daniel!" 

The relief in his eyes was tremendous. "Sam!" 

* 

_She didn't think she'd ever seen a man cry like that before. Carters weren't exactly known for their extreme emotions and while there had certainly been some shouting in her household as a child, tears from either her father or brother had been very rare and only in extreme cases._

_Sam went to crouch down next to him, regretting now her decision to come and see how he was. Impulse was a wicked thing. She should have left as soon as he didn't answer the door. Lock picking a friend's apartment had to be up there among the things you just didn't do. _

_"Daniel?"_

_His crying ceased momentarily and he looked up at her as if he had only just seen her. "Oh. Hi." His hands went up to his eyes, palms pressing hard in to the depths. "I didn't hear you come in. How are you doing?"_

_He was just so... *bizarre*._

_Sam slumped down on her knees and couldn't help but feel pity for him. "You know, fine. What..." What did she say? Jonas had hated her interfering in his private life - private being distinctly different to personal. While she may have shared his personal life, private life was his and his alone. Men just weren't emotional around her. And, she guessed, vice versa. "Do you... need anything?"_

_His shoulders were shaking very hard and though he wasn't making any noise anymore she knew his tears were still falling. It was strangely... strangely... Sam didn't know. 'Nice' was the wrong word. Perhaps 'intriguing'. She didn't think she knew any men who would cry over her like this. She was oddly envious of Share, a woman she had never known._

_She slid around the coffee table where Daniel seemed to have collapsed. Her back was pressed against the couch, just like his was. She lifted a hand and touched his head. "Daniel?"_

_The hands came away very quickly and Sam nearly shrieked when he turned and burrowed into her, his head coming to rest between her breasts, his arms wrapping around her waist. She knew she looked ridiculous - both hands held up in the air as if she was being held hostage. Her friend needed a friend and she was, apparently, it. _

_Lowering her hands, she managed to pat his back. Comfortingly, she assured herself. _

_Yeah, real comforting, Sam. Any more comforting and you'd be halfway across the room handing him a handkerchief at the end of a ten foot pole._

_God._

_Awkwardly, she lowered her head and rested her chin on the top of his brown hair. "Daniel, I'm so sorry."_

_"I can't believe... I can't believe she's dead."_

_Neither could Sam. Walking into that tent and seeing what she'd seen... Everything had changed. God knew what Teal'c felt like. _

_Or perhaps Teal'c didn't feel guilt. Perhaps Teal'c just saw the truth of the matter - that he had saved Daniel's life from a Goa'uld. The truth. Somehow, and Sam had a lot of experience in the matter, she doubted Daniel would see it that way. He had still lost his wife._

_Shifting closer, moving her legs, Sam tried to get a little more comfortable. There was a wet patch forming between her breasts where Daniel's tears were soaking her. She could see a box of Kleenex at the end of the table and wished she could reach them, subtly wave a few in front of Daniel's nose. _

_Unconsciously, she kissed his forehead. "I won't tell you it'll be okay. It's... that's not the truth. It'll just get less painful, very, very slowly. You won't notice it for a time..." This wasn't comforting. She knew this wasn't comforting, but neither were lies. "Daniel, we'll be here for you. Any time you want, you just... you just call us." When she said 'us' she didn't really know who she was talking about. After all, it had been Teal'c who had, however reasonably, killed Share. Sam wasn't entirely sure how well Daniel would receive_ _grief comforting from him._

_And the Colonel?_

_God knew._

_"I can stay over sometimes. When... " She couldn't believe she was saying this. "When my mom died, having people around me... helped." Of course, since her brother moved out, her father buried himself in his work, that hadn't actually happened much. She'd ended up staying with friends for days on end on occasion, until her father ordered her home. "Maybe you'd like to spend time with her family, your family," she corrected. _

_Daniel sniffed suddenly and turned his head to the side. "Sorry, Sam."_

_She sighed, watched his head rise and fall. A smile touched her mouth. "I don't mind, Daniel." She squeezed him just a little bit. "Guess you wouldn't want to cry on Colonel O'Neill."_

_"He'd probably hit me," he pointed out._

_She laughed a little, very softly. "No. Not you. Anyone else, perhaps. But not you."_

_He went silent, tears ceased for the time being. She didn't think it was time to let go, leaving that to Daniel to judge. Clearly he was better with these things. _

_"When did your mother die, Sam?"_

_She blinked. Part of her hadn't believed he had actually heard her. It had just been spontaneous, desperate words to comfort him with. Trying to empathise with how he felt. "My mother...? When I was thirteen."_

_"I didn't know."_

_"No."_

_"How did she die?"_

_"Car accident."_

_"I'm sorry, Sam."_

_She laughed again, a little more bitterly. She really didn't want to talk about this with him. "Daniel, you're the one grieving..."_

_"I can't think about it anymore." He sat up suddenly, brushing at his eyes and looking around the room as if he'd never seen it before. "I can't... I can't."_

_"No. I know," she said sympathetically._

_"How did you get in?"_

_Sam cleared her throat. "I... used your spare key."_

_"Jack's?"_

_Damn. "Er... no."_

_Daniel frowned, looking absurdly boyish with reddened eyes and rumpled clothes. "How, then?"_

_A little embarrassed now, Sam's fingers went to tuck her hair behind her ears. "Oh, you know. I... picked your lock."_

_"You... you broke in!"_

_"I didn't think it would work. I thought you'd have some other kind of lock on in the inside. A dead-bolt or something. But you didn't. Well, you do, but you hadn't... ah." From the incredulous look on his face, she wasn't getting anywhere with her excuses._

_"This is a side of you I never thought I'd see. Can you hotwire cars?"_

_"Not modern ones," she admitted bashfully._

_A smile spread across his face. "Not modern ones," he repeated. He sniffed and rubbed his nose. "Have you told Jack this?"_

_"What? Why would I tell him?"_

_"I'm just picturing his face." He crawled towards the phone, still sniffing. "And I think I'm gonna get him over here to tell him."_

* 

Being enveloped in a Daniel embrace wasn't quite how Sam had imagined her night would go. Then again, it was probably better this way. Sleeping with her CO - even if that point was currently debatable considering her 'official' AWOL status - was one of the worst scenarios she'd ever come across in her personal life and the fact that she'd just been about to... 

"God... we were so worried." Daniel pulled back and looked at her, taking in every inch of her face. His expression changed suddenly, hardened. "Where the hell have you been?" Then his eyes slipped over her shoulder, focused on the only other occupant of the apartment. "I don't believe this." 

"Neither do I, Daniel," Colonel O'Neill said bitterly. "I'm gonna use the bathroom." 

Flushing a little at the implication, Sam lowered her face and looked down at her bare toes, waiting for the Colonel to close the bathroom door. The sound of water running began almost immediately and she felt her face redden further. 

"Sam? What the hell's going on? Has he known where you've been all this time?" 

She opened her mouth to say... what? What did she tell him? Truthfully, she had hoped to have some time to formulate what she was going to tell Daniel. Some kind of a logical explanation, no doubt. 

No logical argument was currently forthcoming. 

"Come on. Sit down," she said, taking his arm and tugging him over to the sitting area. She perched on the edge of the couch and looked at him. He looked fine, very little had changed in his appearance. She thought he was wearing a new sweater but then she didn't really know the ins and outs of his wardrobe all that well. "Did you have a hair cut?" 

His fingers went up, ran through the short strands. "What? Yeah. What? Sam...." 

She smiled at his confusion. "I've missed you," she told him honestly, and it wasn't a trick to procrastinate. She really had missed him. 

"I've missed you too. Now will you tell me what's been going on?" 

"What do you know? You must know something - or how else did you find me?" 

Daniel smirked. "It's a long story." 

"Tell me. Please." 

"I got a phone call from Sara. She said Jack had disappeared about a week ago. She'd tried his cell but he wasn't answering calls. She was, understandably, worried about him." 

Sure she was, Sam thought uncharitably. Then hated herself for thinking it. 

"I figured he went up to his cabin or something but at about the same time, maybe a couple of days later, General Hammond suddenly completely changed." 

Sam's brow creased a little. "Changed?" 

"Well, he stopped being in a filthy mood, for one." 

"The General? In a filthy mood? What?" Somehow, Sam was having difficulty picturing it. 

"He was. Trust me. Never seen anything like it." Daniel shook his head, as if to dispel difficult images. "Of course, it was to do with you. And Jack, of course. And me. Teal'c was in a pretty bad mood too." 

She winced. Great. Guilt raised its head and chortled merrily to itself. 

"But it was extraordinary... a couple of days after Sara called me, the General suddenly cheered up. I've been having meetings with him, running through lists of the finalists for your, ah, replacement," he eyed her warily but when she didn't comment, continued, "and he was suddenly... fine with it. That was what got me suspicious." 

"Doesn't seem like much to go on, Daniel." 

"No. Well, it wasn't all. Jack disappearing like that... that was pretty odd. Last time I checked he was prostrate on his living room floor." 

The door to the bathroom opened and both of them turned to look at the Colonel. He raised his eyes at them and ran his hands through his damp hair. "Daniel," he greeted, coldly, giving his friend only a cursory look as he walked over to the bed. 

"Jack." Sucking in his cheeks, Daniel returned to Sam, ignoring the way Colonel O'Neill was stretching out on the bed, hands tucked under his head, for all the world as comfortable as could be. "So I went to his house and I did a little investigation. His neighbors..." 

"Don't tell me you visited Mrs. Parker," the Colonel interrupted. 

"And had a very nice chat about you, as well," Daniel said sarcastically. "And I agree with her - you having a telescope on your roof is very suspicious." 

He threw a hand up into the air in outrage. "She thinks television's suspicious." 

Sam touched Daniel's elbow, not wanting them to be drawn into an argument so soon. "Go on." 

"His neighbors said Jack had shot out of the house late one night, taking an overnight bag with him. Drove off like it was an emergency." Daniel shook his head wryly. "It could only be one person, Sam." 

She wiped her palms on her legs, looking away from Daniel and his suddenly piercing eyes. 

"I went to the General. I asked him what was going on. He denied everything but...." Daniel moved his head in a suggestion of disbelief. "When I got home last night, there was an open envelope on my bed. It had a typed address inside. This address." 

Her mouth parted in surprise. "Did it have a signature? Anything? I don't think General Hammond would do something like that." 

"No," the Colonel said, snorting, "but Maybourne would." 

"Maybourne?" 

"Oh, tell him about Maybourne, Carter. This is the part I like the best." 

"Sir..." 

He made a noise, held up a finger. "No. Don't call me anything for the rest of the night, Carter. Do you think you could manage that?" 

She tucked her tongue into her cheek, trying not to lose her temper. She was getting so tired of fighting with him, particularly since they'd been on the verge of a... breakthrough only minutes before. 

Admittedly, the type of 'breakthrough' Sam would rather have avoided with him. 

"Sam? Maybourne?" 

She sighed. "You're going to love this, Daniel." 

* 

_"What?" Daniel looked at her oddly. "Sam?"_

_She did it again. Giggled._

_"Sam - you're freaking me out."_

_Leaning over with the over-exaggeration spurred on by drinking too much, she whispered, "My dad's an alien."_

_His mouth twitched. "So's my wife."_

_Sam sniggered. Then spluttered. Then, carefully, she put her beer down so she could wrap her arms about her stomach and roll onto the floor. "My father... is... an *alien*, Daniel. I could go on Oprah!"_

_Daniel chuckled, rolling his own beer between his fingers. "You and me. We could be a team. Pity we're not brother and sister."_

_"Oh yeah! We'd be so dys......" She frowned, turning her head to look at the ceiling at a suspiciously dark patch on her otherwise perfect white paint. "...functional. Can you see damp?" She pointed up at the ceiling of her living room. Her house was a new acquisition, the first house she'd ever bought in fact. She was terribly house proud, had even managed to find the time in the day to decorate the rooms herself. It had been a pretty slow process considering her working hours._

_"No. It's a shadow from your lamp."_

_Sam perched up on her elbows and looked at him. Her friend, Dr Daniel Jackson of the floppy hair. At this particular not-so-sober moment, she loved his damn stupid floppy hair. She was filled with affection for him, overflowing with it. She'd felt weird calling him - when SG-1 got together it was as a whole, not as a part. She and Daniel didn't just hang with each other. "Thanks for coming over at such short notice, Daniel."_

_He raised his beer bottle to her. "Hell, I was up for it. You should have invited the others."_

_Sam made a face. "Somehow I think Colonel O'Neill has better things to do. And Teal'c... I'm not sure he'd understand. Him being.. an alien and all." She giggled again. The weirdness of her life was getting to her. _

_She slid back onto the floor, casting an arm over her eyes. _

_"What do you think he does?"_

_"Teal'c? Observes everyone at the base. I was talking to..."_

_"No, Jack. I'm talking about Jack. What do you think he does?"_

_"I don't know." In fact it made her distinctly uncomfortable to think about him when she wasn't at work. And, funnily enough, when she was at work. *He* made her uncomfortable in a very wrong way._

_"I mean, it's not like... that is to say... does he strike you as lonely?"_

_She pulled her arm from her face. "Daniel? Do you want me to call him?"_

_"No, no. It's fine. I just worry about him."_

_She prodded his thigh with her toe. "You *worry* about him?"_

_"He worries about me. And you. Not so much Teal'c, but still. You don't think I can worry about people. I'm a very worried person...."_

_He was rambling now. She shoved at him with both feet and he slid along her polished floorboards. She hadn't, thankfully, had anything to do with the floorboards. They'd been like that when she'd arrived. "Hey!"_

_"You're rambling."_

_"I ramble. I'm sorry. Rambling is a habit." He shook his head and sighed. "I miss my wife."_

_"I miss my dad."_

_He patted her toes, then investigated them more closely, giggling inanely. "You have green toes."_

_"Ugh, I do not!"_

_"They are!"_

_"My toe *nails* are green."_

_"They match your uniform. Sam that's terrible."_

_"What? Why?"_

_"It's just... really sad. I'm so sad for you. Poor toes."_

_She shoved at him again and this time it was with deep satisfaction that she watched him topple over. She'd never have thought Dr Daniel Jackson could be this much fun._

* 

"Well, it's Goa'uld." He frowned over the napkin. "A rough guess - the bringing of life forever. No, the bringer of life forever. This was on her ring? Mut was considered the mother of all. It's not particularly important. Just a token of who she is." He dropped the napkin back on the coffee table and looked up at them both, now standing behind the coffee table. "Could you guys sit down? You're looking very.... military." 

Sam looked down at herself and then him. Both of them were standing straight, arms behind their backs, feet shoulder width apart. She smiled faintly and just about managed to keep that smile up when she looked him in the eye. "Habit," she murmured, shrugging. 

"So what do you think Maybourne wants? Why's he brought me here, assuming it is him who orchestrated this deal?" Daniel asked, clasping his hands together between his legs. 

Sam perched on the edge of the bed. "He wants to capture Mut. That I know for sure." 

"Mut or Mut and the host?" 

The Colonel grunted. "There's no difference here, Daniel. They are two and the same." 

"Jack, you know that's not true. The Tok'ra..." 

"Are apparently not the Goa'uld, as someone has rammed down my throat time and time again," he glanced at Sam as he said this, but she refused to be drawn in. "Besides, this isn't an SGC mission. Higher powers have bequeathed this mission to Carter. We just have to do as we're told." 

"And you're okay with that?" Daniel looked at them both searchingly. 

"So long as it gets Carter back where she belongs." 

Sam said nothing, instead chose to focus on her toes. 

"Sam? Have you seen this Goa'uld do _anything_ suspicious?" He raised his eyebrows at her, expectantly, waiting for a logical answer from her. 

"Well, no..." 

"Then how do you know she's, for lack of a better word, _bad_." 

Sam smile flickered. Though he didn't know it, he was echoing her thoughts from before, thoughts that the Colonel had shot down swiftly. 

"She's a Goa'uld, Daniel. An alien. A parasite. I can't believe I'm having this argument with you as well." 

Daniel smirked, looked to Sam. "So she's done nothing suspicious? No cult-like implications..." 

"I didn't say that," Sam said, narrowing her eyes. 

"Have you done any Internet searches?" 

"Not yet." 

He seemed to think this was funny. "I guess that's what I'm here for then. Local news reports should also be useful. Missing teenagers, strange crimes. I'll go home and get my laptop. Jack, you do know you're back on duty tomorrow?" 

Sam looked up at the Colonel sharply. "You're gonna have to leave?" 

He smiled at her tightly. "At least check in. As far as I know, it's mostly admin duties until we find a replacement." He turned back to Daniel, top lip curled just a little. "Just how was that going?" 

"Badly." He gave the Colonel a fake, toothy smile. "I vetoed everyone I could." 

"Still pulling for another civilian?" the Colonel asked sarcastically. 

"Yup," Daniel said, nearly speaking through his teeth. 

Sam had a feeling this was a long-running argument but, really, she didn't want to hear about who they had been trying to replace her with. It gave her a cold, sick feeling in her stomach, not helped by their constant unfriendly tones. 

"Since I've been working full time, I can probably swing a day or two off, so I'll come back and do some work here. That is... unless you mind...?" Daniel blinked blue eyes beseechingly at her, every inch the innocent friend. 

"No, no, please," Sam said hurriedly. "I'd love for you to stay. We need all the help we can get." 

"Fine." Daniel stood, brushing down his pants. "I'll go home." He checked his watch. "I may not make it back until the afternoon, though. Jack? When will you be in?" 

"I'll be at work on time, Daniel. I'll leave in a few hours." 

Surreptitiously, Sam looked at him but he wasn't looking at her. She was beginning to worry about the hours between when Daniel left and the Colonel left. Just what exactly was he thinking? If he wasn't so damned inscrutable - and wasn't that part of his charm? - she wouldn't be wound up tighter than a ball of string. 

"Okay." Daniel made his way around the coffee table, picking up his bag from the floor. Sam walked with him to the door and they hugged. "I'm glad you're okay, Sam." 

"Yeah... about that..." She trailed off uncomfortably, making a face. 

He laughed softly, shaking his head at her. "I figured there was more to it. Tell me tomorrow. When we're alone." 

She nodded, pleased that he'd caught on so fast and didn't seem to be hating her. "Okay." She slid the lock back on the door, pulled it open. "See you tomorrow." 

"Bye. See you in the morning, Jack." 

"Yeah. Whatever." 

Sam closed the door slowly, edging closer to it until her forehead was pressed against the wood. The locked clicked into place. Now all she had to do was turn around and face. 

Easy, right? 

Just turn around and... 

"Carter?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Your top's inside out." 

Her shoulders lifted and fell with a weak impression of a laugh. "I know." 

"I don't think he noticed." 

"Even if he did... I don't think he'd... you know." 

"No." 

"Teal'c might... but I'm not sure about Daniel." 

"Oh, Teal'c so knows." 

"Because of the zay'tarc thing?" 

This was ridiculous. She was talking to a _door_. 

"That and... I may have.. said a few things on occasion when Daniel was too drunk to remember." 

She swallowed. "I didn't think you were a loquacious drunk." 

"I'm not. Not... usually. Carter, would you please look at me?" 

She sighed and forced her body to turn around and face him. He'd dropped down onto the bed, facing her with his elbows perched on his knees and his chin on his clasped hands. She managed to smile at him. She loved him, after all. The fact that they'd nearly consummated that emotion in a time-honoured fashion was hardly unexpected. Particularly considering the circumstances. 

"Technically, we haven't broken any regulations," he pointed out. 

"Technically?" 

"You're AWOL. Officially." 

"But working on an unofficial mission." 

"Which I'm not contracted to be involved in. I hardly think Maybourne's gonna tell on us, Carter." He sat up straight, his palms pressing into the mattress on either side of him. 

She reached behind her neck to massage it. "It's not... it's not really the regulations I'm worried about." 

His face changed. "What?" 

"Well... they're kind of secondary. I mean, obviously they're important. But they're not my real worry." 

"Please, do enlighten me." 

"It's... " Sam sought for exactly what was bothering her, exactly what she was so scared of. "What exactly do you expect?" 

"Expect? Carter, I don't expect anything." 

"So, what? This is... would have been a one-night stand?" 

"No!" He stood up suddenly, hands going to run through his hair nervously. "No. God, no." 

"So if we'd... gone through with..." She scrunched up her face, knowing she was making a fool of herself but not particularly caring, "If we'd had sex, what about tomorrow? Or if we complete this mission and I get back into the SGC? Or..." 

"Carter, I have to tell you, honestly, the minutes before Daniel interrupted with his impeccable timing, I wasn't really thinking about the future." 

"See? Exactly." She spread her hands out, desperate for him to understand. "Where the hell was it going to go?" 

"Carter..." The Colonel - dammit, why couldn't she call him Jack even in her head? - stepped towards her. 

"Don't," she warned, her hands turning so her palms faced him. "Don't come closer. Please." 

"I damn well will," he snapped, walking straight towards her, his hands going to palm the door on either side of her head. She swallowed and looked at his chin firmly. "Look, Sam... see?" Her eyes went to his immediately. The name thing, for them, was always going to be a trigger. "Your name. It's a miracle." He rolled his eyes. "Sam, there are options for us..." 

A distinctly dread-related feeling swam to the surface. "Oh God, don't." 

"Sam..." 

"No. No, I won't hear this. I can't..." She reached up instinctively and placed her hands on his cheeks, her thumbs resting below his bottom lip. A lip she had become intimately acquainted with only a couple of hours before. "When 'we' finally happen, I don't want the Air Force to have anything to do with it. I don't want people whispering, I don't want people pointing, I don't want judgment on us for something that I... I really want. I don't want it to be tainted at all." Nervously, she wondered if she should tell him the rest, her secret hopes and wants. 

"Sam?" he said, sensing she had more to say. 

"At some stage..." she began, slowly. "At some stage, I want children. I want a family. When that time comes, I will stop going through the gate." 

"You will?" 

"I can't risk my life every day - any children I have will sure as hell have their mother for as long as I can manage it." She smiled shakily; from the look on his face he had guessed how close these feelings lay to her heart. "When I stop going through the gate, I want you to stop too. If you haven't stopped already." 

His eyebrows shot up, his mouth quirking. "God, you've really thought about this." 

"You're surprised? You know me. I'm not really impulse driven. You're.. you're not freaked out?" 

"No. I always figured I'd retire before you." He slid a hand over one of hers, threading his fingers through hers and bringing it down to rest against his chest. "And the kids thing... that's... freaking great." He laughed slightly, bending his head so his forehead touched hers. "And I understand. I get it. We'll play by the rules until the rules don't matter." 

"Yeah," she breathed out on a sigh. 

"Okay. I can go for that." 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

* 

* 

* 

"Ugh. God, this is like living with my father and brother again," she said, running the water around the sink, trying to get rid of the shaving foam blobs. She was tired, she was aching and she was grumpy. She was not in the mood to play housekeeper to a man who should already be housetrained. 

"Sorry, Sam," Daniel called, not really sounding apologetic _at all_. 

Muttering to herself, Sam brushed her teeth, studying her reflection in the mirror. She was looking kind of pasty, which always came from working too late at night and not sleeping it off. That had been thanks to Daniel, who had, very inconsiderately, woken her up at some godforsaken hour in the morning because he'd forgotten to take a set of keys with him when he went to get breakfast. 

Then he'd poured coffee down her pyjamas. 

And to top it all off, she was *really* missing Colonel O'Neill, which seemed stupid. He'd only been gone a day. 

Twenty-five hours, to be exact. 

She flicked water off her fingers and came out into the apartment. The plus side had been she'd spent a relatively comfortable, albeit brief, night on the bed. Daniel had no problems sleeping on the sofa, even though he was taller than her; he just hooked his legs over the end and slept like the dead. 

Daniel had spent the majority of the previous day with his nose pressed to a computer screen. The pile of paper he was printing out on the portable printer he'd brought with him was increasing at an alarming rate. Sooner or later, Sam realised, she was going to have to read some of the stuff he was producing. She'd been putting it off successfully so far - taking herself off for long runs yesterday morning and in the afternoon before work - but she knew she would have to sit down with him and go through everything thoroughly. 

"So how did it go last night?" he asked, not looking away from the glow of the screen as his fingers tapped away. 

"Fine. I'm getting better at it." 

"Any chance of a promotion?" 

Sam smirked and perched on the edge of the bed. In her mind, none whatsoever. The other women were much better waitresses than she was. "I don't know. I've been watching everyone and copying what they do. There are a few tricks to making yourself as invisible as possible..." 

"Sorry? Invisible?" He blinked at her like a mole emerging from the darkness. 

"The best waitresses are invisible, I'm told." She shrugged. "Particularly at this type of restaurant. They don't want to know you're there." 

Back to the typing he went. "Must be difficult. I waited tables once, earning some money for college." 

"Yeah?" 

"I got fired on the first day." 

She laughed. "What did you do?" 

"Spilled coffee down...." Daniel looked up at her, noted she was now wearing a T-shirt and jeans. "Well, you experienced that." 

Sam grinned at him forgivingly. "I certainly did." 

"Do you overhear what people talk about?" 

"Sometimes. Actually, it's kind of funny," she said, warming to her topic. "Some people stop dead when you approach the table, no matter how obsequiously you do it. But then there are some who just carry on as if you're not there." 

"Because you're so successful at being invisible?" 

"No, more like they just don't care. Like you're nothing." For Sam, this was a pretty illuminating experience. After all, as the top Stargate scientist, she was given a great deal of authority within the SGC. She was never treated as nothing. 

"Sounds like extreme arrogance if you ask me." 

"I guess. The majority of them are rich which might account for some of it. Good suits, Rolex watches, manicured fingernails. The women wear diamonds and expensive dresses and have really, really good hair." 

He laughed at that. "You sound envious." 

Sam reached up to touch her own cropped hair. There were times when she wished for the length she'd had when she was younger, before she joined the Air Force, but it had required horrendous upkeep. "They're all very shiny." 

"Shiny. Gee, Sam, that's a nice description," he mocked gently. His hand went to the printer as the small grey machine started whirring. "You haven't asked me what I've found out." 

"No. I was wondering if we should wait for the Colonel." After all, SG-1 shared information as a group and she knew the Colonel would want to be there if they found out anything important. 

"Have you heard from him?" 

For what seemed like the hundredth time that morning, Sam went to pick her cell up from the bedside table to check the screen. "No, I haven't." 

"He must be stuck in the mountain." 

"Did you get off easily enough?" 

"Easy being a relative term. I had to sign a couple of trees worth of paper to get off today." Daniel shook his head wearily. "God knows what rituals Jack will have to perform to get away. For all I know, he might have to sacrifice something. Here, have a look at this." 

He held out a trio of printouts to Sam and she looked down at them, frowning. "What's this?" 

"It's a celebrity forum. People post 'sightings' of famous people. This one is located in Denver." 

Sam grinned. "Genius, Daniel." She would *never* have thought of that. 

"As you can see, your, er, friend comes up a couple of times, so they can't all be hoaxes." 

Sam skimmed her eyes down a couple of pages, noting that Daniel Frakes' name came up several times. Spotted in a night club where he was almost mobbed - lovely - and also seen eating in Nicois, some restaurant in downtown Denver. "That's last night." 

"So he did get out of Luxor alive. That's encouraging." 

"Thank God," she murmured. 

Daniel held out his hand for the sheets. "Another thing I noticed while I was wading through this... this... orgy of celebrity titbits..." 

"Orgy, Daniel?" she teased. 

"I'm not kidding. Some of this stuff is almost scary. There's a post back here," he scrolled backwards with his mouse, mouth quirked, "where chocolate sauce is mentioned and applied to..." 

"Okay! I get the picture." 

He chuckled. "So I've printed off a number of pages, ranging from when you arrived to the present day, and I've also book-marked the site. With our highlighter pens at the ready we can probably pinpoint just who is visiting the Goa'uld's restaurant." 

"Excellent." 

"In addition to that, I've been looking up local newspaper articles. In some of the gossip columns there are also sightings of celebrities and I'd use them first since they are probably more reliable." 

"Do you have printouts?" She jumped off the bed and came to look at the daunting pile of paper he was intending to sift through. 

"Yeah, right at the bottom." 

She crouched down and started sorting through, shaking her head at some of the things Daniel was coming up with. She paused over several sheets of what looked like information on the Goddess Mut. "You know we have the file you did for the SGC, don't you?" 

"Yes, but that's... well, let's just say I did that relatively early on during my time at the SGC and I wasn't exactly sure what people would be looking for." He smiled to himself slightly. "I'll update it for our purposes. Don't suppose you can get a picture of her, can you?" 

Sam made a face. "I can't exactly do that without being obvious, Daniel." 

"Let's ask Jack. I'm sure he has some 'friends' who can help us out. Tiny cameras or something." 

"Some guy came round and swept the apartment for bugs the other night so you're probably right," she said dryly. 

Just then, her phone started ringing. She flew over to her cell and answered. "Hello?" 

"Hey, sorry. I'll be there in about three hours." 

"Tough time getting away?" She listened intently for background noise. It sounded as though he was near moving traffic. 

"Surprisingly, no. Hammond knows." 

"What?" 

"I mean, he's pretending like he doesn't, but he does." 

She smirked. "I guess both you and Daniel disappearing is a pretty big hint." 

"Yeah. Teal'c's still off-world. I've left a message in his room basically explaining what's going on. Are you okay with that?" 

Sam went to stand by the window, looking down into the street below. "_Exactly_ what's going on?" 

"The bare details. Not the personal stuff, obviously." 

"Okay." 

She guessed that would be her choice. Daniel had taken it well, better than the Colonel had, at least. He'd been very understanding, very supportive, which she should have expected from him. Teal'c was another matter, but only because she knew by telling him the truth she would let him down and she desperately didn't want to disappoint him. It used to be that she could do very little wrong in Teal'c's eyes and losing that faith would be a burden she didn't want to endure. 

"So for the time being, SG-1 is in limbo. I'm bringing paperwork with me, by the way, and I fully expect you to help me with it." 

Sam grinned at the teasing tone in his voice. Obviously, their relationship was moving somewhere new and it was definitely refreshing. "Oh do you?" 

"I do. Or you're sleeping on the sofa again." 

"Actually, sir, Daniel doesn't mind the sofa. I got the bed last night." Which brought about a point she'd been wondering about. "Just exactly where is everyone going to sleep?" 

"I'm not sleeping with Jack!" Daniel exclaimed, behind her. 

"Tell him I heard that. And tell him I don't want to sleep with him either." 

Sam sighed as if this was all deeply irritating. "Fine. Guess I'll have to sleep with you then." 

"Guess you will." 

Okay. She was starting to blush. Time to move the conversation on... "Right. I'll see you in three hours." 

"Thereabouts. Anything you want me to pick up?" 

"I can't think of anything. Daniel? Do you need anything?" Sam turned to look at him. 

"Three hours? Grab some subs. For lunch." 

"Oh, good idea. Daniel wants subs, sir He has lots of things for you to read, sir," she said brightly. 

"Fantastic. Summarise everything for me? I'm not kidding about the paperwork." 

* 

_Sam tried prying her eyes open with her fingers but it was no use. The words were blurring. It was, after all, past two in the morning and she hadn't slept since.. since.. _

_Look. Now her brain was going as well. _

_Time to go to bed._

_She slid off her stool, just about remembering to turn off her laptop, and wandered out of her office towards the elevator._

_"Carter, hold the doors."_

_Covering her yawn, Sam turned on automatic and pushed open the doors, waiting for her CO. _

_He smiled at her gratefully. "Thanks. You're up late."_

_"So are you," she pointed out, yawning again._

_"Dammit, Carter, don't..." He caught the yawn dramatically and rubbed his hands over his face. "Yeah, I'm up late too. Paperwork. You?"_

_"Paperwork."_

_He did a deliberately comical double take and she giggled tiredly. "You? Little Miss Perfect? Don't you get everything done on time? I never get late reports from you."_

_"That's because I pull all-nighters. I'm just not a paperwork person. Not Air Force paperwork anyway. Astrophysicist paperwork... fine and dandy. But triplicates? A play by play account of the most boring missions? Give me a break."_

_He blinked at her, obviously a little surprised at her outburst. "Sure, Carter, be blunt."_

_She started to blush. "I'm really tired, sir."_

_Thankfully, the doors opened on the floor which housed the base quarters and she was saved from any more embarrassment. _

_He walked with her to her quarters and paused outside her door. "Get some sleep, Carter. And try not to dream of triplicate reports."_

_"I'll try, sir. Er... you too, sir."_

_The Colonel laughed and Sam thought it sounded rather bitter. "I don't dream about things like that, Carter. Goodnight."_

_"Night, sir."_

_She stepped into her room but doubled back, surprising herself. Leaning out into the corridor she watched him walk away just because she wanted to look at him a little more._


	18. Chapter Eighteen

With thanks to the betas of supreme grooviness - Emry, Kat, Mel and Sandy. 

* 

* 

* 

Years of experience with Jack O'Neill expressions had Sam on alert. She finally leaned across the table. "What are you thinking?" 

"I'm thinking... I'm thinking you're not going to like this." 

Daniel stopped eating long enough to look at each of them. He reached for a paper napkin to wipe at his mouth. "I sense trouble." 

He wasn't the only one. 

Colonel O'Neill winced as if what he was about to do went against his nature. "Carter... how likely do you think it is that you could see Daniel Frakes?" 

No way. 

"You've got to be kidding me." 

Daniel snorted with laughter. "Nice one, Jack." 

"Let's face it," he appealed. "She's not doing so good at the waitressing thing..." 

"That's true," Sam admitted, grudgingly. Last night's fiasco with the wine had been pretty high up on the list of Sam Carter's All Time Screw-ups. She'd been lucky she hadn't been fired. Her shirt was right now soaking in the bathroom sink. 

"So we need to take advantage of our other options. We know Frakes is in on it..." 

"We don't," she said, quickly, and somewhat defensively. 

"Okay, okay," he held up his hands, "but we know he knows something. He's a VIP guest, he seems to be on intimate terms with snake woman..." 

Sam paled at the implication. "Jesus." 

The Colonel paused. He smiled a not-so-sorry smile but didn't apologise. 

Daniel snickered again. "This gets better and better." Sam kicked him neatly on the shin and he yelped. "Thanks a lot, Sam. God. With boots on, too." 

"How do you know he'll remember me?" Sam demanded, flushing. 

Colonel O'Neill rolled his eyes. "Carter, come on..." 

"No, I mean that. For all I know, he does that sort of thing a lot..." 

Daniel snorted and quickly moved his legs away before Sam could react. "Okay, Sam, despite your rather, er, unusual lack of confidence in this particular area in your life, rest assured he will remember you. It wasn't that long ago anyway. We can at least explore this avenue." 

He had a point, even if she was _really_ uncomfortable with it. 

"How would we go about meeting him, then?" 

Daniel got up and walked over to the coffee table where he began rifling through piles of paper. "I should probably organize this," he muttered, "ah-hah! 'Daniel Frakes, who is reported to be saying at The Brown Palace Hotel'. I knew that site would come in useful one day." 

"We'll check it out. Carter, you can wear whatever you were wearing when you met him. Leave a message at the front desk..." 

"Sir, he won't want to see me." 

"Tell him you're pregnant or something...." 

"Sir!" 

He grinned contritely. He reached across to her plate and snagged a fry. "Sorry, couldn't resist. Think of something." 

Why did he always say that to her? Like she was full of ideas. "He'll just think I'm trying to see him again because I know he's famous," she said. 

"So? Or are you afraid you'll disappoint him, Carter?" 

There was a bite to his words that she found somewhat insulting. "Yes, I am. He was a nice guy, Colonel." 

"Okay, okay," Daniel interrupted, sitting back down at the table and picking up his fork to spear up some salad. "I figure we ought to do a little surveillance on this guy. Firstly to see if he's actually at the hotel..." 

"And the gossip page isn't making it up," the Colonel muttered. "I guess I'm gonna be standing on buildings again." 

"We'll be with you this time." 

"No, you're gonna be working. Just in case this falls through." 

Sam made a face. Super. More embarrassing accidents. "Sure. In that case, I'm going to keep working on the guards. They seem to mix with the VIPs pretty indiscriminately." And one of them, Tim, didn't view her with complete suspicion. 

"You do that. I'll make a call and see if I can get you wired up." 

"So I'm finally going to meet this mysterious 'friend' of yours?" 

"Look, I forgot to tell you last time. I really did!" 

Sam smiled and went back to eating her meal. 

"We'll go check the hotel out tonight, then, before you go to work. You'll need to know the layout," the Colonel said, finally. "Everyone okay with that?" 

"Sure." 

"Absolutely." 

* 

_"Carter, do not, under any circumstances, go *anywhere*. Stay right there. That's an order."_

_Sam blinked. What the hell was he talking about? Where did he expect her to go, exactly? _

_Jesus, this water was cold._

_"I will be right back."_

_His head disappeared from above her and Sam sighed. Tentatively, she lifted one boot and winced at the sucking, swirling noise below her. She had a suspicious feeling the water was rising, too. _

_She looked around the hole she was standing in, searching for any way out. The sides were comprised of smooth dirt, faintly muddy from the recent downpour and almost completely vertical. There were no handy hanging roots creeping out of the earth for her to grab hold of and hoist herself up to the rim. Her last effort to grip the earth and climb up using her fingers and toes had resulted in a muddy landslide and wet pants. She wasn't going to try it again unless there was something to hold on to. _

_Reaching down, Sam drew the mouth of her P-90 across the water level, digging into the dirt. If her suspicion was correct, the mark would disappear with the rising water._

_To occupy herself, she waded over to the other side and tried to see out of the hole._ _On the radio, she heard her CO call for Teal'c and she listened to their conversation, as Sam's situation was briskly explained._

_"I will be with your shortly, O'Neill."_

_"Great. Carter, do you copy?"_

_She picked up her radio. "Sir?"_

_"Just checking. Still okay?"_

_She rolled her eyes. Was it just her, or was he being awfully protective? "Yes, sir."_

_She unclicked her radio and waded back to the other side, wincing at the mud squelching under her boots and the sucking noise her feet made as she lifted them from the water._

_"Carter?"_

_"Yes sir?"_

_"Good. You're still there."_

_"Sir, where else would I be?" she asked, somewhat snappishly. _

_"Just playing the concerned CO, Major," he said brusquely._

_No kidding. Sam wondered if this had anything to do with his mysterious offer to go 'fishing'. Did he actually mean 'fishing'? Or... or did he mean *fishing*? She couldn't believe she'd nearly said yes too. God, thank goodness for Thor and his impeccable timing. To think, if he hadn't zapped the Colonel up Sam could well have been at his cabin in Minnesota doing... what time was it?_

_She checked her watch. Huh. Back on Earth it was about half past five in the morning. She'd be in bed._

_With him?_

_Nervously, Sam started pacing through the water, trying to keep warm. _

_She was disturbed._

_How could she have nearly said 'yes'? How far had her priorities slipped for her to even consider going fishing, alone, with him. Hello - *frat* regs. It was drummed into every cadet's head. Particularly, though it was never explicitly said, between a superior male officer and his female subordinate_. _And it wasn't as if her father hadn't been pretty stern on the topic either. Funnily enough, he'd never had a problem using his own connections _ _to improve upon her position. _

_"Carter?"_

_"*What?*"_

_They both paused. Colonel O'Neill no doubt surprised by her vehemence and Sam wincing from her incredible rudeness._

_Hurriedly, Sam tried to fill the silence, "I beg your pardon, sir."_

_"That's okay. Extenuating circumstances."_

_Oh yeah. _

_"I'm coming back with the rope now Carter."_

_"That's great, sir." She glanced over at her mark and sighed. "The water's rising, sir."_

_"Dammit. How far up is it?"_

_"Knee level, sir."_

_"Right, I'll be back in time, then. Guess we could always wait for you to *float* out, though God knows what kind of things are floating in that water."_

_Sam looked down worriedly. "Thanks for that, sir."_

_"For God' s sake, Carter, we're stuck on a planet in the middle of nowhere, I think you can call me Jack."_

_Never gonna happen, she told herself. Never. Gonna. Happen._

_Something moved out of the corner of Sam's eyes._

_"Sir, you mentioned floating things?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"There's something swimming in here."_

_"Shit. Stay perfectly still, Carter. Do not move."_

_"No, sir."_

* 

"Jack." 

He threw his hands in the air. "No!" 

"Come on, Jack, you know she's right." 

Sam put her hands on her hips. "Please, you know this is the only way." 

"You're not to use my name like that again," he said, pointing at her threateningly as he paced. "I won't have you using it to convince me of things I don't want to be convinced about." 

She went to look out of the window at the entrance to the hotel across the road. "He's *right* there. Just let me go." 

"No, not until we've got you wired." 

"Sir..." 

"Jack, this could be the only chance we get. He's signing autographs, for God's sake. She could just..." He started patting his pockets, then pulling out various things from them - a small book, glasses case, a corkscrew, pen, paper. "Here, take these." Daniel shoved the pen and paper at her. "Ask him to sign it." 

Sam looked to her CO appealingly. "Sir?" 

Colonel O'Neill sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay, go. Go." 

She went. 

The run down the stairs made Sam glad that she hadn't broken her exercise routine while she'd been 'vacationing' and, although she nearly got herself run over as she ran across Seventeenth Street, it was worth it. He was still there, signing autographs and flashing very white teeth at eager, rosy-cheeked and chilled girls who were banding together for warmth as they waggled photographs of him and scraps of paper. 

She noticed there were two burly looking men standing nearby, dressed in unnoticeable suits. Bodyguards. Eying them warily, she slipped between the pushing and shoving girls and the occasional man, somewhat thankful that there weren't scores of them. She prayed that he didn't get tired of signing autographs and go back inside before she could get to him. 

"Okay, last one... who shall it be?" 

Amongst the chorus of 'me! me!' Sam just about managed to push her hand out just a little further, the flash of faintly yellowed paper sticking out above everyone else. For once, Sam was particularly glad of her height. 

His dark eyes, thickly lashed, moved amongst the women and men, finally settling on Sam's gloved hand. He reached out and tapped her hand. "This one, I think." 

Disappointed, girls moved out of the way as Sam stepped forward. She stood in front of him and waited while his eyes focused on her piece of paper and he took the pen. 

"Who shall I make it out to?" he asked, pen poised. 

"Sam." She sought desperately for something more telling but she needn't have bothered. His eyes moved from the paper, sliding up her arm and locking on her face. His mouth murmured her name again, flashing with remembrance. 

Then Sam noticed something. 

Something she'd never, ever, *ever* noticed before. 

A tingling emerged on the back of her neck, a tingling that spread and grew, crawled down her spine and attacked all the nerves in her body. A humming, tingling, awareness. A _knowing_. 

"Sam. Sam?" He was repeating her name but she started slipping back into the crowd, horror filtering down from her brain. Without thinking about it - without thinking of the consequences - Sam got the hell away from him and the knowledge. 


	19. Chapter Nineteen

With thanks to Emry, Mel, Sandy and Kat! 

* 

* 

* 

* 

"Carter? Carter? Where the hell are you?" 

She heard his footsteps approach the door and he knocked on it forcefully. That was quick, she thought vaguely. They must have run right after her the moment she left the scene. 

"Jack, calm down, for God's sake. Sam? Are you all right?" 

She looked up from her study of her knee caps and stared at the door. "I'm okay." 

"What the hell happened?" 

"I...." Sam sighed. "I threw up." 

"What? Are you sick or something?" 

It was funny how Colonel O'Neill could sound both concerned and irritated at the same time. 

She sniffed pathetically and pulled herself up by way of the sink. "No." Grabbing some toilet paper, she attempted to clean up her face, staring at her revolting appearance in the mirror. "We can't interview Daniel Frakes." 

"What? Why not?" 

"Because he's a Goa'uld." The urge to throw up snuck back up on her and she leaned heavily on the sink, taking deep breaths, the mascara-stained tissue crumpled in her hand. 

"Jesus Christ," she heard Daniel mutter. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes. Completely." She pushed open the door and stumbled out, going straight through the two of them to the window. She wrenched it open as far as she could and sucked in the cold, cleansing air. "God. It was such a shock." 

"I can imagine." Daniel touched the small of her back gently, rubbing in circles. "Do you want anything? A glass of water?" 

"That would be nice." 

"Jack, get her a glass of water." 

The Colonel said something under his breath but a moment later the sound of the faucet being turned on filled the silence of the apartment. He walked over and passed her the glass and she sipped at it slowly, staring down into the dark street. 

"What time is it?" 

"Nearly half past six." The Colonel's hand brushed the edges of her hair, then moved away. "Do you need to get to work?" 

"She can't. If he's a Goa'uld, presumably Mut knows him. If he contacts her, the Goa'uld will tell her that he met someone whom the host recognized. He can trace you, Sam. It may sound like only a slight chance, but the Goa'uld knows everything the host does. And Daniel Frakes knows you. While the Goa'uld can sense that you were once blended with Jolinar. It seems like a huge risk to me, Sam." 

Putting the glass down abruptly, Sam started breathing deeply again. "Super." 

"He's a new Goa'uld, Carter?" 

Her head shot up and she glanced over her shoulder at him. "By that do you mean did I sleep with him when he was already a host, *sir*?" 

Colonel O'Neill held her gaze coolly. "Could you have?" 

A bitter taste sprung up in the back of her throat. "There's no way in hell. You can't miss a Goa'uld, sir. It's an overwhelming feeling." 

"Even..." He paused and she could tell he was trying to be gentle. "Even the way you were feeling?" 

She frowned at him. "No, sir. Trust me on this one, okay? He wasn't a Goa'uld when I first met him." 

"Do you think he was the last time you saw him?" 

Sighing, she went to sit on the sofa, with Daniel trailing protectively after her. "I don't know. I was too far away. How did this happen?" 

"It's got to be Mut," Daniel said. "It's the only explanation I can think of." 

"How did she do it? Did Maybourne lie to us? Was there another Goa'uld symbiote out there?" Sam asked, looking at them both. 

"Or she could be another Goa'uld Queen, like Hathor." 

Daniel winced. "I'm not sure, Jack. The young larvae we've come across couldn't hold on to their hosts. Presumably Mut would want to incubate the larvae for as long as possible until they were mature." 

The Colonel nodded. "Whatever it is, this is too big now. That's two Goa'uld on the loose. We need backup and we need to get things moving. We can't have them running around like this. Frakes is a celebrity, for God's sake. God knows what contacts he has." 

"We need to speak to Maybourne," Sam said slowly, wincing at the idea. She knew he wasn't going to take this suggestion well. 

"No, we don't." 

She understood his reticence - in fact she even partially agreed with it - but she'd made a deal. "Sir..." 

"Look, Carter, I know you have some kind of bizarre loyalty for him..." 

"Not really." 

"He did knock some sense into her, Jack. Sorry, Sam." 

Since she agreed with Daniel too, it was easy to forgive him. "It's okay." 

The Colonel ignored the two of them. "I want to get a containment team down here, I want to get some backup and I don't want him fucking it up." 

"With respect, Sir, this was a two way deal," she explained, willing him to understand. "He helped me, I helped him." 

"Read my lips, Carter: I don't care. Hammond already knows. You're back in. We can screw Maybourne all we like. God knows this is his mess in the first place. And, besides," he said, a little more calmly, "we don't know how to contact him." 

"He's bound to turn up sooner or later," Sam said, searching her CO's face for any sign of weakness. She couldn't betray Maybourne and she didn't want to bring in the SGC on this. She'd made a deal with Maybourne, even if he was a traitor. 

She grimaced again at that last thought. Maybe the Colonel was right. Perhaps she was being easy on Maybourne. It was just, it seemed hypocritical to condemn Maybourne when she'd, maybe not _betrayed_ her country, but certainly let it down. And Maybourne, no doubt purely because he was using her, had helped her out in a big way. He had knocked some sense into her in a bizarre way, he had shown her what she should be doing, that there was a bigger picture - damn, now she was even thinking in clichés - and that she was needed. 

"Look, let's get our reasoning straight for the time being. Jack, sit down," Daniel said, nodding at Colonel O'Neill to take the bed. "There are now two Goa'uld on Earth that we know of - Mut and one other. We don't know who the other Goa'uld is. But it seems a pretty big coincidence that both are in Denver and both can be traced back to Luxor. For all we know, Daniel Frakes was a human right up until the night you last saw him, Sam." 

"Which means she snaked him," the Colonel stated grimly. 

"Presumably at Luxor. Presumably it has something to do with this VIP room. Maybe that's a cover. Maybe... maybe she's been searching for the perfect host." Daniel's mouth twisted at that bitterly. "Movie star good looks and wealth was obviously the way to go." 

The idea that all this had been going on right under her nose was horrifying. "We have to get in there," she said softly. "We have to put a stop to all this." 

"That's the attitude." 

"If... if he doesn't contact us by tomorrow night, sir, we'll go on without him," Sam said, hoping this would satisfy him. "It'll take us at least until then to work out a suitable plan." 

"I'm with Sam on this one," Daniel put in. 

"You're always with Sam," Jack muttered, dropping back onto the bed and pushing his hands against his face. "Shit. New plan, campers. Let's start brainstorming." 

* 

_"Go fish."_

_Daniel rolled his eyes. "Fine." He picked up another card to add to the numerous cards in his hands. Talk about colossal bad luck._

_"Teal'c, ace?" Sam asked, looking at the Jaffa who had decided to sit on a chair rather than on the infirmary bed with Sam and Daniel._

_"Indeed." He handed the card over to Sam who happily made another pair. She was left with just three cards and was winning. Was it sad to be pleased she was winning at Go Fish?_

_"DanielJackson, I require an eight." He held out his hand expectantly._

_"Well, you can have it." He handed it over and looked over at Sam. "Do you have a king?"_

_"Nope," Sam said, grinning. "Go fish."_

_Daniel narrowed his eyes at Teal'c and Sam alternately. "Okay, that's not fair. Someone's cheating."_

_Sam opened her mouth to point out it would be ridiculous to cheat at Go Fish when she heard a noise. Since they'd left the infirmary door open for just that reason, all three of them froze. Well, Sam and Daniel froze and Teal'c remained his usual still self._

_The footsteps came closer and paused outside the infirmary. The lights were on very low so that the patients - Daniel and Sam - could continue their beneficial rest. Daniel and Sam had other ideas. It was Christmas Eve and they were stuck inside the SGC 'recovering', as Janet put it. There was no way in hell they were going to lie in bed and count the ceiling tiles any longer. _

_The footsteps came in. Heavy footsteps. Sam mouthed 'a man' at Daniel and he nodded as they stared at the infirmary curtain that separated both Sam and Daniel's beds. _

_They grinned at each other. If they got caught, probably the most that would happen is that they'd be shouted at, ordered to their beds and that would be the end of the matter._

_It was still fun though. _

_Teal'c raised an eyebrow at them both and they hurriedly, but unsuccessfully, smothered their grins._

_The footsteps came closer, paused just a few feet away. Sam bit her bottom lip, face scrunched up in anticipation. Daniel closed his eyes and lowered his head so his grin wasn't quite so inane._

_The curtain suddenly swooshed open and both Daniel and Sam yelped._

_Then Daniel fell off the bed._

_Colonel O'Neill blinked. Teal'c leaned a little forward. Sam stared down at the ground where her friend was now lying, legs in the air._

_"A little help..." he said, weakly, raising a hand._

_Sam giggled helplessly. _

_"Oh, shut up."_

_She giggled all the more and lay down on her bed, face down, shoulders shaking._

_"Glad to see you're all following the doctor's orders," the Colonel muttered sarcastically, coming around to hoist Daniel to standing since Sam didn't appear to be of any help. "Carter, get into bed, at least. Daniel... Teal'c! Teal'c, buddy, you're supposed to be the grown up! How could you lead them astray like this?"_

_"Jack, we're not children," Daniel protested, limping around the bed. Seeing this, Sam broke out into new giggles. "Sam, stop laughing at me. God, she's worse than having a sister. If I had a sister. Damn."_

_"Major, I hope this is the painkillers talking," Colonel O'Neill said warningly._

_"Me too, sir," she laughed._

_*_

"I'll need to you to take your shirt off." 

She blinked at him, glanced at her CO, who nodded minutely, and then she started undoing her buttons. 

Daniel cleared his throat and very obviously went to wash the dishes in the sink. He gave the Colonel a very pointed look, which Sam's CO chose to ignore, and then started clinking plates together under running water. 

Making a face, Colonel O'Neill's mysterious electronics expert squatted slightly and stared between Sam's breasts, carefully feeding a black wire down the center of her bra. Feeling faintly hysterical, Sam tried to fix her eyes on the wall between the windows aware that Colonel O'Neill was watching her without qualms. She was really glad of the Colonel's foresight in closing the curtains on her windows to prevent the people in the opposite apartment block getting an eyeful. God knows what the other people in the building thought about her tiny apartment and all the men she... entertained. 

It was really a good thing she hadn't got to know any of her neighbors. 

"So, Carter, let's run through this again..." 

She couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Sir..." 

"Again, Major?" His decidedly commanding tone of voice made Sam straighten slightly. "Humor me, Carter, I'm an old man." 

Since the look he was now aiming at her was distinctly and deliberately lascivious, Sam smiled at him. "I go to work. Wired... hey!" 

"Jerry," the Colonel said warningly. 

Jerry held his hands up in the air. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, the wire slipped - could you be wearing a more lacy bra?" He demanded, looking up at Sam. 

Sam threw her own hands up into the air. "I'm sorry my underwear doesn't meet to your specifications. I would have dressed appropriately if I'd only known," she said with heavy sarcasm. 

Jerry began to blush and he rubbed at his ear nervously. "Sorry, sorry. It's just... I'm not used to... fiddling with women's breasts like this." 

Over by the sink, Daniel coughed loudly. "Sorry," he explained weakly, patting his chest. "Soap bubble went down my throat." 

Gritting her teeth, Sam tried not to notice the way the guy had his fingers where they had no right to be. She bit her bottom lip and took a deep breath. 

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't do that! Jesus, you could crush it. This is a very fine piece of technology, Major." 

Sam nearly growled at him. 

"Turn around please," Jerry continued, his bushy eyebrows drawing to the center of his forehead as he concentrated. 

Sam turned and winced as the battery pack was stuck to the small of her back, where her shirt would be lose enough to conceal it. 

"Put the shirt on." 

She shrugged her arms into the shirt and deftly did up the buttons, turning around for an inspection. Both Colonel O'Neill and his friend walked around Sam, tugging and pulling at the shirt, running their hands over her. She decided the Colonel was doing it to be irritating but Jerry was only doing his job. As such, she glared at the Colonel when he was satisfied and returned to the bed to sit. 

"Perfect. Now, don't spill anything down your front, for God's sake. Don't shout into it or we'll get massive feedback. Don't cover it with anything." He reached forward and flicked another top button undone. "Leave that button undone so we'll get better sound." 

She looked down. "Is that necessary?" 

"Unless you have a better push-up bra, yes." 

She narrowed her eyes and refrained, just, from punching him. 

"Carter? The plan?" the Colonel prompted, ignoring their bickering. 

Then someone knocked on the door. 

Slapping his hands to his face, the Colonel groaned. "Fifty bucks says that's Maybourne." 

Jerry stood up abruptly. "Maybourne? _Harry_ Maybourne?" he hissed. Glancing around like a startled rabbit, he pointed to the bathroom. "I'll be in there. Knock on the door when he's gone." 

"Sure. Daniel, get the door, would ya?" 


	20. Chapter Twenty

With thanks to the betas of extraordinary powers, Emry, Mel and Sandy. 

* 

* 

* 

It wasn't Maybourne. 

"I'm looking for Ms Clorel," an unfamiliar, low-timbre male voice said. 

Leaning to the side to see past Daniel, Sam was slightly surprised to see that one of the bodyguards was at the door. Not Tim, the one she knew on a hello-and-good-bye basis, but one of the VIP guards. The hairs on the back of her neck started to tingle nervously. "Hi, I'm Sam Clorel. Can I help you?" 

The man nodded at her respectfully, unknowingly drawing her attention to the black marking on his otherwise milk-pale forehead. "Miss, I work at the restaurant. Miss Vautour asks that you come a little bit early tonight. One of the senior waitresses is off sick and she would like to fill in. She needs someone to fill the VIP place." 

Sam blinked. 

Numerous thoughts crossed her mind, the most prominent of which was the fact that she knew the majority of the junior waitresses were far more capable than she and that any one of them would be far more suitable to work in the VIP room. She knew, too, that someone could just have picked up the phone and called her to ask her to come in early. Ms Buckingham had done it a number of times in front of her while Sam had been checking in at reception. 

There was no way this was a legitimate reason. 

The guard had come to her door to make sure she turned up at Luxor. She had no doubt that if she was unwilling, he would simply knock her out and take her there, regardless of who was watching. She had no doubt he was there to make sure she didn't make a run for it. 

It was a trap. 

Looking around at Daniel and the Colonel, she could see they knew it too. The Colonel was staring at the bodyguard while Daniel's mouth was opening and closing like the proverbial fish. There was nothing she could say to them in front of this man. 

"Could you give me a moment to gather my things?" 

"Sure, miss." He managed a tight smile. "Would you mind if I got myself a glass of water?" 

Damn. "No problem." Sam gestured to the sink where Daniel's sparkling glasses were all lying upside down on the draining board. 

The man leaned back out of the door and shouted down towards the stairs. "Eric, I'm just getting a glass of water." 

They all heard the footsteps and she distinctly heard the Colonel laugh slightly as he lowered his head into his hands when another guard turned up at her door, leaning in, apparently perfectly casual. He smiled at everyone. "Good evening." The black man looked around her apartment, still smiling and put his hands in his slacks' pockets. The posture meant that his jacket opened at the side, displaying the guns he had holstered on both hips. Sam nearly rolled her eyes. 

Since when had they carried guns? 

"Nice place," the new guy said. "Compact. But nice." 

Either they knew exactly what was going on and were really fantastic actors, Sam thought, or they were toying with her. 

Sam was aiming for the latter. She was cynical like that. 

She realized she had told them she needed to get ready and she quickly grabbed her coat, taking her bag over to the bed when she remembered that Jerry was still hiding in the bathroom. She pulled out her compact and started to do her make-up. 

"Isn't that a bathroom?" the water guy said, standing with the glass in his hand. 

"Yeah but the light's not working. I can't see to do my makeup," she said, unrolling her lipstick and glancing at the Colonel as she did so. She rolled her eyes to the bedside table where she knew he kept his gun but a mere dip of his mouth told her he wasn't up for that idea. 

"Um, sorry, where are my manners?" She half turned and gestured to both Daniel and the Colonel. If they were going to play with her, then she was going to play right back. "Jack, Daniel, these men work at Luxor. I'm sorry, I don't know your names. Eric and...?" 

"Oh, I'm James." James smiled tightly and leaned forward to shake Daniel's hand. "Daniel." 

Daniel didn't look thrilled and he smiled through his teeth. "Nice to meet you." 

The Colonel waved the offer of a handshake. He flicked out his hand. "Arthritis," he explained as an excuse. He glanced at his watch unnecessarily. "Shouldn't you be going, Sam? Don't want you to be late. Who knows? Maybe you'll get a promotion." 

"I doubt it," Sam said dryly. At least her hands weren't shaking, she thought as she whipped the lipstick across her top and bottom lip. "Right, hat, gloves, scarf, jacket... are we walking?" 

"No, we've got a car waiting downstairs." 

"A car." She smiled forcefully. "How nice." 

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. 

* 

Maybe they should have tried to overpower them, Sam thought as she sat between James and Eric in the back-seat of the car. She didn't recognize the driver of the dark sedan from behind but judging from his similar bulk and height, she guessed he was another bodyguard. 

Too late now, obviously, but later, when she wrote her report - and she would, she told herself firmly - she would have to seriously think about how the evening had gone wrong. 

At least she was wired. Which was a plus. 

No gun - not so much of a plus. 

On the other hand, she had no doubt that Daniel, Jerry and the Colonel were on red alert right now, following her in Jerry's ratty old surveillance van - which Jerry had proudly referred to earlier as a 'classic' spy van. That is, if the Colonel didn't think it was too obvious. Mut was already suspicious of her. 

"Do you mind if I put the radio on?" the guy driving asked, looking in the rear view mirror at Sam. 

"No. Fine," she said, smiling over-brightly. 

He leaned forward and flicked the radio station over to something classical. Strains of violins started playing softly in the background. Sam wasn't really a classical music kind of girl but at the moment it was better than loud music. She didn't want anything to block the sound getting through to the Colonel and the others. 

She looked at Eric and James. "So... how long have you worked at Luxor?" 

"Longer than you, I'd say. Wouldn't you say, Eric?" James said, leaning forward to look at his comrade. 

Eric nodded thoughtfully. "I'd say. Definitely longer than you." 

Christ. 

"You like working there?" 

"I do. Don't you, James?" 

"Oh, certainly I do." 

For God's sake... 

"See Ms Vautour frequently?" 

James shrugged. "Now and again." 

"Yeah, now and again," Eric put in, smiling at her. "She's a great boss, don't you think, James?" 

"Oh yeah, a great boss. Absolutely." 

Sam rolled her eyes. 

She had a feeling James and Eric spent a little too much time together. 

The driver took a fairly abrupt right hand turn down a street Sam was only vaguely familiar with. She could just about place herself, thanks to the recons she'd done with the Colonel earlier, and put herself a couple of buildings away from Luxor. 

The car drew to a halt in front of a large, dark-windowed block. Eric shuffled out of the car and held out his hand for Sam, who just about managed to get out of the car without splitting the skirt of her uniform or flashing her underwear. She considered it the one achievement of the evening. 

Looking up, she asked, "Where are we?" It could have been a huge apartment building but there was very little to suggest anyone lived there. 

James put a large hand on her back and pushed her towards an unassuming, peeling red door just as the driver ran up and opened it. The blackness was not encouraging. "You're getting a treat tonight, miss." 

She started to slow down, pushing her heels down into the ground but Eric's hand joined James', just as they both took her by the elbows and lifted her clean off the ground, propelling her towards the door. 

Unceremoniously, she was pushed into the darkness. 

And, oh cliché of clichés, the damn door was closed behind her. 

"I'm just betting it's locked too." 

With almost perfect timing, there was a solid thunk as a heavy lock slid into place. 

Sam sighed and the darkness began to crawl towards her. 

* 

_"I can't do this."_

_"Major Carter, *Sam*..."_

_She lifted her head from her hand and glared at him. She would much prefer that all things related to 'the incident' be related to Major Carter, rather than to Sam. Sam she liked to keep clean out of the workplace. "I prefer Major Carter."_

_"All right." He made a note on his clipboard. "Let's go back to the beginning. Tell me how you came to be possessed by the symbiote."_

_"I've told you already. I've told the whole damn base already." Irritably, she glanced at her watch. She had better things to do than be here. _

_The urge to reach behind and scratch furiously at her neck was almost unbearable._

_"Tell me, Sam."_

_"Major Carter," she pressed, speaking through her teeth now._

_She was perilously close to losing her temper, couldn't he see that?_

_"You don't have to go into any detail. I just want to hear the words from your lips."_

_No._

_No, no, no, no, *no*._

_"We were evacuating the...." Almost immediately, she stumbled._

_Major Carter, stumbling in reciting a report? She'd only just given the same report to General Hammond and she hadn't stumbled then. Why was she doing it now?_

_She stood up quickly. "Look, I don't want to do this."_

_"It is advised that all SGC person..."_

_"I'm not saying I'll never do it. Just... give me a couple of days to... adjust. Okay?"_

_The doctor looked up at her, sympathy in his eyes. "A couple of days."_

_Sensing an escape, she started to relax. "Yeah. Just a couple of days."_

_Seemed miles away._

_"All right, Major. I'll see you in a couple of days."_

_And leaving, Sam wondered if he knew the truth just as she did. That he wouldn't see her in a couple of days._

* 

She hated the dark. 

Okay, that wasn't true, she thought as her hands reached out into the nothingness. She liked some kinds of darkness. The darkness of a bedroom. The warmth of it. The comfort. The occasional - very occasional - feeling that there was someone you cared for in the bed with you. 

That kind of darkness was wonderful. She'd experienced quite a bit of that darkness recently. 

This was a different kind of darkness entirely. 

Other senses on full alert, Sam waited with bated breath for her eyesight to improve. Her night-sight was usually very good, but then there was almost always some form of light, be it alien or human. In this case, the room was genuinely very dark. All windows and other light sources seemed to be blocked and she'd noticed on the way down the street that the street lights weren't working. And her overall impression of the building had been very dark too - dark, reflecting windows. 

This really didn't bode well. 

A soft breath of wind tickled the back of her neck. 

Oh.... _boy_. 

"Hello?" 

What a dumb thing to say, she thought, just a little hysterical. 

Come on, Sam, where's your Major instincts? 

_Back in my damn BDUs._

She slowly sank down to her knees, running her fingers lightly over the floor. Smooth, polished. Floorboards. A couple of feet in front of her was a wall, she could tell because the darkness was somehow more solid right in front of her and she had a fleeting image just as the door had opened from the outside of the square shape of a picture on the wall. To the left and right there is more darkness, of the spatial kind. 

So, slipping out of her heels, but picking them up quietly, she crept forward until the wall was right in front of her and she could turn her back against it. She hated feeling like she was exposed to the enemy. 

She wanted to give the Colonel a report, some idea of where she was but she didn't want to give away the fact that she was wired. 

Looks like a little bit of crazy talking to herself was in order, then. 

"Well, this is nice," she whispered, leaning down to talk to her breasts. "Why the hell would they dump me in some building a couple of streets away from Luxor?" Sam winced slightly - even to her this facade seemed weak. "And why aren't any of the damn street lights working? Landlord should really look into it." She managed a slightly strangled giggle and was fairly impressed with her achievement. 

That breath of wind came back again and all the hairs on the back of her neck and arms rose in unison. A tingling began. 

A familiar tingling. 

Crap. This was getting really old. 


	21. Chapter Twentyone

Extreme thanks go to Emry, Kat, Mel and Sandy. 

Nearly there everyone! 

If you want to read the whole (so far) version, along with a lot of corrections - http://www.randomleaves.com/allcrisis.html 

* 

* 

* 

_Okay, let's not panic_, she ordered herself, resisting the urge to scratch maniacally at the back of her neck. 

There was a Goa'uld in the room somewhere. Which Goa'uld was it? Mut or Frakes? And just what exactly was it planning? To kill her? If that was so, why hadn't it done it already? Whipped out a zat in the darkness and shot her twice. It could pinpoint her location far easier than she could pinpoint its location. 

"Who's there?" she asked. 

No response. 

She wasn't really very surprised. 

Her ears were listening so intently for any sound that she was able to hear the blood rushing through her body. Focussing beyond her body, she sought for any kind of movement, any kind of sound. Breathing, cloth rustling, hair moving. Anything. 

Click. 

That was something. Small, insignificant sounding. But definitely a noise she wasn't aware had happened before. 

And it was several feet to her left. 

Click. 

Shit. Closer now. Or was she imagining things? 

Adrenaline pumped in her body, the roar of her body ordering her into fight or flight mode. She moved one shoe into her other hand, gripping the toes tightly, raising them both. The heels were thin and high and with the right force and accuracy they would entirely make up for the fact that they had been agony to wear. 

Click. 

It was somewhere on her left for definite and either it was getting louder or someone, or something, was there. Her head turned, searching the darkness for any movement at all. The darkness had made her painfully vulnerable and each moment that passed she expected something to appear, something to suddenly shove it's face in front of hers... 

She waited. 

No fourth 'click' was forthcoming. That fact made her indescribably nervous. 

Sam had a really bizarre urge to start singing something inane. 

_Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer..._

"Ms Clorel. So glad you could come." 

She jumped; she couldn't help it. Only sheer willpower stopped her from screaming her head off. The voice was _right by her head_. She spun around to try and find it but she couldn't seem to focus on any human-like shape in the darkness at all. 

"Where are you?" 

"There is a open door to your right. If you follow the wall you will walk straight through it." 

Focusing intently on the voice, Sam tried to make out where it was coming from. It was clear as a bell, complete with the delicate foreign accent, the impeccable speech rhythms. 

She could have sworn someone was in the room with her. 

Dragging her hand along the wall, Sam followed her instructions, walking slowly. She knew she had to stall; she had to give Colonel O'Neill time to find her. 

And she had complete faith in him finding her. 

Until then, she needed to stall. She needed to get as much information out of the Goa'uld as possible. And she needed to stay alive. 

After this, off-world missions were going to be a piece of cake. 

Reaching out with her hand, she felt a difference in air temperature. Another room. She pushed a foot forward, tapping her toes against the floor and noting the different texture of the floor. It wasn't any lighter in the room, however, but just in case her eyes scoured the darkness, searching for anything that indicated windows or doors. 

Click. 

Shit! 

"Continue along the right wall. You will come across an open door and a set of descending stairs." 

Sam was sensing a pattern. The click had something to do with the voice, she was sure of it. And now that she thought about it, the noise was identical each time, the kind of sound that could only be produced by technology. Perhaps it was a telecom system. It had to be pretty sophisticated to produce that kind of quality of sound, she thought. She reached up, touching the wall and ran her hand up and down. Almost immediately, her hand brushed over a rounded curve on the wall, rough with the wiry feel of meshing. 

A speaker. 

Click. 

"Move. _Now_." 

She felt the sound leave the speaker, felt the air on her fingertips. 

There had to be a video camera on her, too. Probably with heat sensors or motion detectors. Where the hell was she? She'd taken the building to be a derelict apartment block but judging from the equipment in here it had been really done up to certain technical specifications. And if she knew anything about technology it was that the equipment installed was expensive. There was no way the restaurant could finance this. 

Slowly, Sam edged herself along the wall. 

* 

_"The fact of the matter is, Captain, that you defied direct orders." Hammond raised his eyebrows at her. "The orders of Colonel Makepeace, a superior officer."_

_Sam didn't wince, she didn't betray any kind of reaction to this statement. Partially because it was true and partially because she wanted to see where the General was going with this._

_"I'm not going to report you. Otherwise both Colonel O'Neill and Colonel Makepeace would be in this office with me. As it is, Colonel Makepeace isn't going to state it in his report."_

_Sam_ _felt her mouth open slightly, her lips parting in surprise. "That's very generous of him, sir."_

_Hammond smiled in a way that suggested to Sam that it had not been Makepeace's doing. She had wondered what that dirty look she'd received from the Marine that morning had been about._

_She guessed this was it._

_"Very generous, Captain," Hammond said dryly. "Since the outcome of you disobeying direct orders was the rescue of Colonel O'Neill and the death of Hathor, you can count yourself lucky. I suppose I needn't point out that you're not to do it again?"_

_Since she had no intention of taking orders from anyone but Colonel O'Neill and the General himself, Sam could nod and respond with the utmost truthfulness, "No, sir. There's no need for that."_

* 

Sam wondered what had happened to Makepeace. She presumed he'd been prosecuted after being caught as a spy for NID - but when had he started working for Maybourne? 

Was she a fool for believing she needed to keep Maybourne in the loop? Maybourne had screwed with the SGC on so many damn occasions; did he deserve her strange loyalty? Was the Colonel right? 

Maybourne hadn't been in contact with them, so as far as she knew she was carry out the mission without him knowing that they were close to completing it. And if she lived through this - _when_ she lived through this - was she going to screw Maybourne over without intending to? 

Should she care? 

That stray thought kept Sam entertained as she sought for the descending staircase, careful in case she tripped and fell down a flight of stairs. The Colonel would be really pissed off if she broke her neck. 

When her foot sunk through nothing, she hurriedly pulled it back. In front of her, down in front of her, she supposed, was the staircase. There had to be some kind of a railing. She reached out with her hands, creeping very marginally closer to where her foot had missed its step. Her right hand connected with something smooth, cool and solid. Tapping her short nails on it, she judged it to be metal. A metal railing.. 

Sam had a bizarre image of a gold railing á la Goa'uld architecture and she brushed the idea away as she gripped a hold of it and tentatively began stepping down. 

Damn, she hadn't thought to ask Jerry if the microphone he'd so thoroughly attached to her bra worked underground. Her mind wasn't on the job. This plan was just going from disaster to disaster, which, she supposed, had something to do with her own attitude towards it. She hadn't really been acting like Major Carter the past couple of weeks, being more concerned with her own welfare and rescuing her battered relationship with her CO. Even taking that relationship far further than she'd ever thought possible in their working parameters. 

The tingling began on the back of her neck and Sam came to a complete halt, turning around to search for movement. She wasn't making this up - there was a Goa'uld around somewhere. Somewhere nearby - not close enough for her skin to crawl, but near enough for her to be aware of it. It didn't have to be a Goa'uld, it could be a Jaffa, she supposed. But that begged the question - where would the larval Goa'uld have come from? 

Maybourne had a lot to answer for. 

If she ever saw him again. 

_Don't think like that._

She kept going, her senses on alert. What the hell did Mut want, anyway? If she wanted Sam dead, why hadn't she already done it? When she was vulnerable in the darkness. When a bullet through her head would put an end to any problems she might be capable of causing. 

The only other option, one she had come to expect from the Goa'uld, was that she would be a useful source of information. The memories of Jolinar, hazy as they were - 

* 

_Sam sat up in a rush, climbed out of her bed with the breathlessness of one escaping a nightmare. Halfway to the bathroom, she stopped and thought for a moment over what she had just dreamt._

_Nothing she had ever experienced could have provided her subconscious with those images._

_Legs going weak, Sam sank down to the floor._

_Four weeks after her possession by an alien, three weeks after her first, and last, therapy session with Dr Mackenzie, one week after her return from duty, and Sam had dreams about an alien planet she hadn't visited._

_Great._

_Just... great._

_Stumbling into her bathroom, she ran the water and contemplated sticking her head straight into the sink for a few minutes. In the end, all she did was splash her face a couple of times and look at her terrible reflection. _

_She needed new pajamas._

* 

- would be a useful tool for any up-and-coming Goa'uld. 

However, this Goa'uld didn't know that Jolinar was a Tok'ra. Most likely Mut didn't know the Tok'ra existed - goodness knew how long she'd been trapped in that jar until NID released her on the general population. Mut also didn't know anything about Sam's experiences - Sam Clorel, that is. 

For all Mut knew, Sam was a completely oblivious bystander. A bystander who had been host to a Goa'uld, in, presumably, a blending that had failed. If Sam kept up the act properly, she would be of no use to Mut whatsoever. The fact that she had met Daniel Frakes before could be one huge coincidence. 

But if she was of no use to the Goa'uld, then Mut had done this for nothing. And Sam had a pretty good idea what a disgruntled Goa'uld would do to a useless person. 

Unfortunately for Sam, the set of stairs came to an end. Reaching out with her hands, all she could feel around her were surfaces. Walls, prickly with raised bumps, and the smoother surfaces of varnished wooden surfaces, doors maybe. She sought for a handle, somewhere, even pushed at the two doors but nothing moved, nothing budged. 

The prickling began in earnest again and she hunched her shoulders - it certainly felt like there was a Goa'uld in the room with her but she could easily just be projecting. 

Click. 

"Stay where you are." 

Stay where she... 

"Ah!" she yelped as suddenly all around her the ground began to move. Leaning against the wall, Sam turned her head around. She was going _down_, she felt sure of it. Above her she could hear the smooth sound of supporting wire ropes moving, the whoosh of air passing. Moving and moving fast. 

Where the hell was she going? 

The stop was abrupt and jogged Sam back against the wall. She pushed herself to standing quickly, afraid that she would need to defend herself. 

Nothing happened. 

"Well, that's an anticlimax," she announced to anyone that was listening. 

No one was, certainly no one willing to respond to her cliché. 

She reached out again, pressing against the door on her immediate left. Nothing. Carefully walking across the small space to where the foot of the staircase had been, Sam waved her arms out in the air. Nothing greeted her but air. A stray thought that there was probably a very fatal drop in that direction wafted through Sam's mind and she swallowed. 

Click. 

"Continue forward." 

Oh, there was no way... 

"Now!" 

Grimacing, Sam reached out with her foot. She could feel cold stone beneath her stockinged toes, solid stone. Hopping forward cautiously, she felt the temperature change again, just slightly. How far underground had they gone? She knew a lot of the buildings in the area had underground parking lots and underground storage, perhaps Mut had the building transformed to suit her security needs. 

Still, it would have been expensive. Where had she gotten the money from? 

Click. 

"Stand still." 

Sam did as she was told. She was completely in Mut's hands and no doubt the Goa'uld was enjoying herself immensely. With any luck, Sam could stay alive a little longer while Mut gloated. And she hadn't met a snake yet who didn't gloat. Even the Tok'ra were in to a bit of superior acting. 

With a great _thunk_ of noise, suddenly, the area in which Sam was standing was completely illuminated. 

Sam had to admire the tactic; she was just as blind as she had been in the dark, but now she was terrifyingly exposed. 


	22. Chapter Twentytwo

Thanks to Emry, Melly, Kat and Sandy. 

* 

* 

* 

Blinking back tears, Sam tried to force her eyes to adjust quickly, but her reflexes had her eyelids shutting despite her intentions. She started to back up, one hand waving her damn shoe in front of her in case she was attacked, the other hand shielding her eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Sam. Did the lights surprise you? We've been having some power problems recently." 

Frakes. The voice was definitely his, but the tone was all wrong. It was the amused, smug tone of a Goa'uld who knew that he had won. 

Sam peered through her fingers, still blinking the temporary blindness away. No wonder the lights had blinded her so efficiently, the place was decorated like a palace. Mirrors and gold lamp stands, tapestries and exotic knickknacks, crystal chandeliers and billions of lights. It may well have been an underground basement, but the Goa'uld had certainly not let that stop their flair for... ugly decorations. 

Slowly, she pulled her hand down, focussed on the only two occupants of the room. 

"Why am I here?" she demanded. 

Frakes smiled and looked down at the tiled floor. It was with considerable revulsion that she watched his half-hidden eyes flash. "Because we invited you. Please, take a seat." 

He moved away from the golden fireplace, gesturing to one of the velvet couches while he took the seat next to Mut on the opposite, matching couch. 

Sam really didn't want to sit on the couch. And not just because if she got close to them her skin would start to try and tear itself from her body. "You know, I'm perfectly happy standing..." 

"We'd much prefer that you sat," Mut said, smiling that tight, frosty little smile. "Please. _Sit_." She uttered the last word in a far more forceful tone. 

"You know," she waved her shoes around, "my feet have been hurting. Maybe I'll... sit." Gritting her teeth and making damn sure there was no one behind the couch, Sam went to sit down, sitting so her back was to the fireplace and she could get a good look at the rest of the room and keep an eye on her hosts. 

Hah. _Hosts. _She really cracked herself up. 

It was a large room, the walls covered with tapestries and lengths of rich material and huge gilt mirrors. Probably to make up for the lack of windows, though she didn't think the Goa'uld really went for nice views. Unless, of course, it was a view of a temple or worshippers bowing to their 'generous' god. 

Yeah. That was probably it. 

Furnishings, rich, antique-looking, and in vibrant jewel tones were dotted about the room as if there were several sitting areas. There were no bookcases, no signs of technology beyond the various lights dotted about the room. 

"Are you cold? We could light the fire," Mut asked, seemingly out of a hostess-like concern for her guest. 

Sam looked at the fireplace. "Er, no, I'm - " 

The fire turned on, abruptly. 

Neither of the Goa'uld had moved. 

Now, Sam wasn't some innocent human. She wasn't even really human anymore. She _knew_ neither of the Goa'uld had any 'magical' powers. She knew they couldn't light fires. 

She knew that. 

Samantha Clorel didn't. 

"H... h... how did you do that? It is on a timer?" she whispered, staring at the fire first, then the Goa'uld. 

Both Goa'uld smiled. Smugly. 

"Sam, it is nice to see you again," Frakes said, smiling that disarming smile that _still_ reminded her of Colonel O'Neill. 

She realized she ought to come up with an explanation for her initial reaction to him. "I was pretty surprised to see you myself. I'm.. I'm sorry I ran away from you the other evening. I suddenly got really... ashamed. I didn't know what you'd think when you saw me again. I, ah, didn't know you two knew each other." 

Frakes and Mut looked at each other, then their hands reached out, fingers linking. For the first time, Sam noticed a gold ring on Frakes' finger. A counterpart to the ring on Mut's hand. 

A roar of fear interrupted any thought processes Sam might have had. She was pretty sure Frakes hadn't been married when they'd slept together - as if she really needed any more guilt for _that_ night - so this had to be a new occurrence. And, presumably, the snakes had been... married before. There had to be two symbiotes lost, then. 

Maybourne had lied to her. 

She cast that thought aside for the moment, to deal with later. When she'd, you know, kill him. 

What had Mut's husband been in the file? Amun, wasn't it? She desperately searched for anything she could remember about Amun that struck her as important but all she could think of was that he had apparently been able to change his physical form at will. Which simply wasn't possible. 

Okay, okay, so there had been a lot of things in the past few years that had been impossible. But until she saw him change shape she was going to go on the basis that he couldn't and it was some myth. 

"You're... married?" she asked, her voice theatrically hoarse. 

"As of one week ago. You could say.... it was destiny," Mut said, a slow, warm smile spreading as she looked at her 'husband'. 

Sam swallowed and sought for something to say. "Wow. A whirlwind romance, then." 

Mut's brow furrowed at the expression but eventually she nodded, reluctantly turning away from her husband to look at Sam. She flicked her eyes up and down Sam's appearance disparagingly. "Ms Clorel, we have summoned you here for a reason." 

Sam itched to pull her skirt down across her thighs. It was Mut's damn uniform anyway. Then again, she was still holding her shoes in her hands. There was no way in hell she was going to put them down though. "This isn't a social call?" 

The joke was weak and only Sam got it. The two Goa'uld looked at her like she'd started tap-dancing on the coffee table. 

Not that it really was a coffee table, Sam thought. More of a decorative piece of furniture. She certainly couldn't imagine... 

Okay. Now was so not the time to mentally imagine the Goa'uld sipping coffee and discussing the morning papers. 

"We were concerned about you, my dear," Frakes said, his tone suddenly paternal. "You seemed so shocked to see us... me the other evening. I, of course, never expected to see you again and when I explained the situation to my wife, she thought you'd like to talk." 

Sam blinked. "No, no, I'm fine. Really. Nothing to talk about." 

"How very... modern of you, my dear." 

Any moment now, Sam thought, they were going to offer her tea and cake. 

"Tell me a little about yourself, Samantha," Mut continued smoothly, but there was an underlying edge to her words that was distinctly metallic. There was no way Sam would be able to get out of it. "Some background, if you please. I enjoy knowing about my staff." 

"Um, there's nothing much to tell, really." 

"I'm sure that's not true." 

She fiddled with the edge of her skirt, trying - very easily - to look nervous. "Okay, well, up until a few months ago I lived with my parents. They... well, they died." 

Mut and Daniel Frakes leaned slightly forward. 

"Indeed?" Mut murmured. "How tragic. Forgive me for being indelicate, but how did they die?" 

"Oh." Sam's eyes flickered beyond them. "They were... murdered. Someone must have got into the house. Several someones, the police said. There was no way one person could have.. have... done what they did by themselves. It was horrible." 

"Terrifying," Daniel Frakes said dryly. "The police never found the perpetrators?" 

Sam shook her head, allowing herself to study the man. Considering she had a fairly good knowledge of the man's body, she was finding it far easier to detach herself from him than she'd thought she would. All she could see when she looked into his eyes now was the Goa'uld - the arrogance, the all-knowing attitude, and the sense that she was nothing to him. She couldn't see the warmth that had been in his eyes when she had first met him, the humor that had reminded her so much of Colonel O'Neill. All that had been lost now. The host was being repressed by the symbiote and there was nothing here on Earth that she could do to save him. 

"The last time my husband met you, you were working in some kind of a bar. That must be interesting work. All the new people." 

Sam focussed on the female Goa'uld and tried to drum up some sort of conversational response. "Yes, it was. I mean, it was only a part time job. Just to get me on my feet, so to speak. I never thought an internationally famous film star would walk in." She smiled weakly and watched as identical, frozen smiles spread across the Goa'uld's faces. 

God, why didn't they try to kill her already? 

Maybe they were. 

Sam's eyes widened. 

_Death by small talk._

Please don't let them use it on the Colonel, she thought inanely. 

She lowered her head, sure she was verging on hysterical for her to be actually amused at her own private jokes, and stared at the heels of her shoes. She'd never noticed before, but the heels of her shoes had some sort of metal support running through them. Handy. 

Movement had her head jerking up and she watched Mut rise and smooth her dress down. "Do you have brothers, sisters, Ms Clorel?" she asked, walking towards the fireplace and holding out her hands, as if to warm them. 

"Ah, no. I don't." 

"An only child, then," Frakes murmured, drawing her attention back from Mut. "Like me. I always wished for a brother or sister." 

Unable to look away from Mut, but knowing it would seem odd if she kept staring, Sam forced her head back to Frakes. "Yeah, me too. You know," she said, making sure her voice was just tentative enough, "I'm on shift tonight. I don't suppose you know what time it is?" She flicked her eyes towards Mut, who was now reaching for a ceramic urn sitting in the center of the mantelpiece, and then back to Frakes. 

"You know, I don't seem to have my watch on me, but I'm sure it's not late," he said smoothly, taking an inordinately long time to check his wrist. 

She was starting to feel... weird. Her instincts were telling her that Mut was up to something but it was hard to subtly turn halfway around and watch the woman while Frakes was talking to her. 

Shifting on the couch, Sam moved a little more around, fixing a smile on her face. "This is a nice room. Did you get an interior designer?" she asked, aiming the question at Mut. 

Mut had now taken the urn from the mantelpiece and was looking inside it. Casually, she turned around and regarded Sam with supposed innocence. "Interior decorators? No, no." She smiled slightly and Sam felt a shiver run down her spine. She reached inside the urn. 

"Is that a cookie jar?" Sam asked, hopefully. 

The Goa'uld pulled her hand out and flexed her hand, admiring the hand device serenely. 

Sam couldn't help the sigh. "Oh.... I should have seen that coming." 

* 

_"How's the head?"_

_She squinted at him, wishing she could somehow pull her cap down over her eyes and still walk competently. "You know... when you get knocked unconscious?"_

_He smiled slightly and helped her over a log. "Yes."_

_"And then you have to get up and do something. Like... run ten miles."_

_The Colonel nodded, his smile spreading. "Yup."_

_"And after that ten mile run you have to sit through a three hour exam on brain surgery that you haven't studied for and wouldn't know where to start."_

_He snorted. "We'll just say I know the feeling, okay?"_

_"And after *that*, you have to explain why the SGC is a worthwhile military organization to Senator Kinsey."_

_"Oh *yeah*."_

_"This is worse."_

_The Colonel patted her on the back, grinning. "Never mind, Carter. Only three more klicks to the 'gate and the Doc can drug you up as soon as we get home."_

_"Oooh," she said, with the utmost pleasure. "Best thought you've had all day, sir."_

_"I aim to please, Carter, I aim to please."_

* 

"Now, Ms Clorel, don't panic," Frakes said, standing up smoothly. 

Sam rolled her eyes. "Don't panic?" 

"I take it from your expression you have seen a hand device before." She glared at him as he came to loom over her. "Well, then you'll know there is little you can do about it. You have a choice. You can tell us everything you know or we can force the information out of you." 

"What information?" 

Mut raised her hand. "My dear, do cooperate." 

Sam shifted some more on the sofa but Frakes put a restraining hand on her shoulder. And pressed. Her bones creaked. "I really don't know what you're talking about," she said, eyeing the hand device. "And... what exactly do you want to know?" 

"What do you know of the Goa'uld?" 

"The... uh!" The hand device activated and Sam automatically flinched back. Shit! What was she supposed to do now? God, she hated those things. 

"Ms Clorel, you know what will happen should my wife chose to use that device in force. I'd advise you to relinquish any ideas you have about resisting and answer our questions." His eyes flashed and Sam felt her heart jump towards her throat in revulsion. 

"What do you know of the Goa'uld?" Mut demanded. And gone was the human voice, the light European accent. This was the voice of the Goa'uld. 

"I know they have terrible taste in decorations." 

Frakes reacted instantly, pulling his hand away from her shoulder to give her a blow across the head and though her head rung with pain and her skull reverberated with the impact, he had made a mistake in releasing her. She flipped the shoe in her right hand around, the heel facing upwards, and stood swiftly, swinging her arm upwards towards Mut. 

Panic, adrenaline and sheer will considerably strengthened Sam's reaction. The heel of the shoe hit Mut's temple with a solidity that made Sam's teeth clench and sent the woman reeling back towards the mantelpiece where her head cracked loudly on the marble ledge. She slumped down to the ground. 

Instinctively knowing Frakes would retaliate violently once again, Sam was already ducking and moving when she saw the blur of his arm move towards her for the second time. His fist glanced the back of her head, but she was already in motion, getting the hell away as fast as she could. 

Running blindly, Sam headed straight for the doors, knowing that her measly human strength was no match for an enraged Goa'uld. The hallway was nowhere near as dark as it had been before but now she could see that where the elevator had been, there was now a dark, empty space. She ran to the doorway and looked down, noted the wires and the very abrupt end down below. She turned her head up and saw the bottom of the elevator. 

Turning around, she could see no one had followed her - but that wasn't exactly comforting. 

The wires started moving and she jerked back. The elevator was coming down. 

Well and truly panicking now, Sam began to try the doors that were on either side, twirling the handles and pushing. No luck. Typical. 

Swallowing hard, she backed further away from the descending elevator, just as the floor of the elevator came into view. There was nowhere to go. If she went back, it would be either to face one irate Goa'uld or two. And there was no way they were going to let her go now. 

Taking the most advantageous position she could find, on the right hand side of the elevator, Sam pressed herself up against the wall, trying to keep an eye on the hallway she'd just run through and on the elevator opening itself, waiting for someone to step through. She turned the left shoe in her hand, looking down at the heel. They hadn't covered shoe combat in basic training but it was proving a pretty effective weapon. 

The elevator came to a halt, the wires grinding to a stop. She waited, listening intently for any sound at all. 

A tingling began on the back of her neck. She clenched her teeth together and rolled her shoulders. There _was_ another Goa'uld here. 

Reckoning she'd have to just go for the surprise attack, Sam counted slowly to three. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

Spinning around into the opening, her heart all but beating in her mouth, Sam raised her arm, ready to strike. Moments before she felled her hand, her brain kicked in and reigned in all impulses to attack. Her arm froze. 

Teal'c blinked at her impassively, every inch the unmoving warrior. Looking at the shoe held high above his head, he reached up and calmly put a hand on her frozen wrist. "That will not be necessary, MajorCarter." 

Sam felt her knees begin to shake. "Teal'c," she said, proud that her voice was steady. "It's really good to see you." 

"As it is to see you, MajorCarter. Where are the Goa'uld?" 

"Mut is... well, unconscious but she might have recovered." 

"And her husband?" 

She leaned her forehead against his solidly reassuring chest, for the moment accepting simply that he was here and that she wasn't alone. "I don't know. I thought he'd chase after me but he didn't." 

"We must find them." 

For the first time, she noticed that he was carrying his staff weapon and had a zat strapped to his waist. She smiled and dropped her shoe on the floor as he pulled the zat from his waist and handed it to her. "That's more like it," she said, happily. 

Squeezing the trigger, the zat stretched out. "Much better," she said confidently, turning around and looking into the dark hallway. "Okay, _now_ I can kick ass." 

"Indeed," he said dryly. 

"This way." 

She retraced her footsteps, heading straight back into the gaudy room. The urn was lying on the floor by the mantelpiece, along with her other shoe. She picked it up and showed him the blood on the end of the heel. "I whacked her with this." 

He raised an eyebrow. "Most ingenious." He reached out and tapped the wall on the side of the fireplace. "These walls are hollow," he announced, his eyes scouring the rest of the room. "In some very ancient Goa'uld palaces, there were corridors running parallel to all main hallways and corridors. For observation," he added. 

Sam wondered if that had anything to do with her sensing a Goa'uld presence when there was none. 

"Do you think that's true here?" She went to tap on the walls herself, walking along the length of the one to the right of the fireplace, finding where the wall sounded more hollow in certain places than others. 

"Yes. There must be some kind of a entrance." He ran his hands over the wall, fingernails scratching. 

Sam followed his lead, studying the walls intently. She pulled back a tapestry - a monstrous thing in red and gold - and laughed. "How about a door, Teal'c?" she asked. She reached for the handle and noticed that there was a perfect fingerprint of blood etched on the gold finish. 

He, too, seemed to see the humor of the situation, which was good. Hysterical inappropriate humor was definitely a bad thing, after all. 

They pulled open the door, weapons raised, and gazed at the dark, seemingly endless corridor in front of them. Sam moved slightly, and suddenly a shaft of light from the room reflected clearly on the two bodies lying slumped at the base of the steps. 

Teal'c charged his staff weapon and aimed it down at the Goa'uld, taking the initiative and stepping cautiously down towards them. 

"Teal'c," Sam whispered. "I can't feel... I can't sense the Goa'uld." 

He crouched down and pushed Mut onto her front. He touched the back of her neck. "She is dead and the symbiote is gone." 

She climbed down after him. "Frakes?" 

Teal'c repeated the procedure with Frakes, then checked his pulse. He turned back to look at Sam. "He is alive. There is blood in his mouth; I believe the symbiote exited via the throat." 

"Can they do that?" 

"It usually means suicide. And no Goa'uld would do that." 

Frakes moaned suddenly and Teal'c rose to standing. "We must think of a cover story, Major Carter." 

Behind, in the distance, Sam heard the sound of running feet. She turned and heard the Colonel's voice, calling her name. 

* 

Ms Buckingham's black eye was pretty impressive. She was also chain smoking, replacing each hurriedly finished cigarette with another, and pacing. Daniel was doing a good job calming her down, though, because she'd finally stopped swearing. 

"Maybourne," Sam stated. 

The Colonel shrugged slightly. "Looks like it." He didn't look surprised. "I imagine, knowing Mut was fully involved with you, he decided now would be the best time to raid Luxor. Particularly since Mut had taken the precaution of closing the club for the night. Using the diagram we gave him, he and his men found the entrance in the basement and ran straight into the escaping Goa'uld. If it wasn't Maybourne, I would have said it was really well planned." 

"Doesn't explain how the Goa'uld got out of Frakes without killing him," she whispered, uncomfortably hopping from foot to foot. 

"It is possible Maybourne reasoned with the symbiotes," Teal'c said slowly, the word 'reasoned' obviously not something he was used to using in a sentence with 'symbiotes'. 

Colonel O'Neill and Sam looked at him sharply. 

"I imagine Colonel Maybourne had some kind of containment vessel prepared for the safe transportation of the symbiotes," Teal'c said, his eyes on the pacing Ms Buckingham and a patiently explaining Daniel. "The female host was dying, the blows to her head could have been easily healed by the symbiote had she been able to rest and recover, but she was not able to do so." 

"So Maybourne, what, told them to jump out?" the Colonel hissed, sounding disbelieving. 

"They had no choice. They were surrounded," Teal'c pointed out calmly. "He may have had plans for them." 

Sam's blood ran cold. "You mean, other hosts?" 

"It is _Maybourne_. Dammit." The Colonel paced away, leaving Sam to close her eyes and hope to God Maybourne had no such plans. 

Teal'c put a hand on her shoulder. "You could do little else to stop them, Major Carter." 

"I could have tried to fight them." 

"You would have failed." 

She snorted. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Teal'c." 

"I have great confidence in you, Major Carter," he said, inclining his head. "In all things." 

She stared at him, wondering how much he knew, why he was here, how he had known where she was. It had been clear the moment the Colonel had raced into the passageway that he hadn't known Teal'c was around, which led Sam to wonder just how Teal'c had known where to find her. 

"Teal'c, how did you get here?" 

He tilted his chin up proudly. "I drove." 

She laughed. "No, really, Teal'c. How did you get here?" 

"I returned from Chulak early and received the message from Colonel O'Neill. I thought it best that I operated as your back-up should a time arise when you needed me." 

"Oh. How.. how long have you been here?" 

"A few days," he said evasively. 

Colonel O'Neill paced back to them, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. "We'd better get back to the SGC and report. I have five missed calls from Hammond on my cell." The Colonel eyed Teal'c suspiciously. "Did he send you?" 

"General Hammond did not. He did, however, recently introduce me to the practice of car rental." 

The Colonel smiled slightly and shook his head. "Yeah. That's what I thought." 


	23. Chapter Twentythree

*

*

*

Her lab was exactly the way she'd left it. Files in exactly the same places, laptop still closed, favorite coffee mug – thankfully clean and empty – still sitting by her memo pad, pens cast about the place and print offs of some experiment, the details of which she couldn't recall. 

Exactly the way she left it.

That made her feel a little uncomfortable.

"The Colonel refused to have it cleared out."

Sam turned at the familiar voice. "Janet! Hi!" she said, smiling at her friend tentatively.

Janet smiled slightly back, but it was nowhere near the beam of welcome that most people had greeted her with as she'd walked back through the SGC. "Sam, I'll need to give you a thorough examination before I can clear you for 'gate travel," she said, her tone every inch the professional CMO. "As does Dr McKenzie."

She raised her eyebrows. "Dr McKenzie? When has his opinion ever been needed to clear teams for 'gate travel?"

Janet's smile wavered. "In this case, it is required. The General has requested it," Janet added softly, a note of suspicion in her voice.

"Oh." Sam looked back down at the desk quickly to hide her facial response. 

The General hadn't mentioned that she would be expected to report to McKenzie. Hammond, after all, was supposed to be under the impression that she'd simply been recruited from somewhere above him – and the details he had been given certainly wouldn't have suggested that Sam needed some time with a professional psychiatrist. 

Perhaps Colonel O'Neill had been involved in this particular decision. 

"Right. Sure," Sam said, eventually.

"So, I can expect you sometime today?"

"Of course. I have a post-mission briefing in fifteen minutes. I'll come directly after that."

Janet nodded. "Good." She paused before leaving. "It's nice to have you home, Sam. We've missed you."

"Thank you. I've missed you too."

Janet walked off, her heels clipping on the corridor floors and Sam listened intently. The sound was evocative of way too many occasions she'd spent in the infirmary, trying to convince the nurses or whichever teammate who was unharmed, to sneak work in for her. 

She edged herself onto a stool and pulled open her laptop, nervously anticipating the briefing Hammond had called for the whole of SG-1. No one had prepared for it – which, she felt, was the whole point. Hammond was no fool. He knew something more had gone on than what she and Colonel O'Neill had told him. It might even be that the psych evaluation had purely been his idea. There was a considerable time lag between when she had left and when the General had been informed of her 'mission', after all.

No doubt there would be a number of awkward silences over the briefing room table as she, the Colonel and Daniel tried to convey to each other what they could say and what they couldn't.

Shit.

Sighing, Sam pressed her hands against her face. She'd known coming back to work would be hard. She'd have to put aside the last few weeks – particularly certain personal aspects of it – and return to, if not the same, then close to the same person she'd been before she'd left.

It wasn't as if she'd had any wild epiphanies while she'd been away. No realizations. No discovery of her 'inner purpose' or anything that clichéd. She just... felt a little different. More relaxed, perhaps, though that was hard to imagine considering what she'd have to go through in ten minutes time. 

She needed to talk to Janet. At the moment she didn't know how much she could tell Janet, exactly, and that was something she'd have to think about. She didn't want to put anyone else's careers as risk but if Janet wasn't going to let go on this subject she didn't know what else to do. It was up to Janet. 

"Hey, Carter."

She lifted her head from the study of her computer screen. "Sir!" She smiled widely at him.

He grinned right back and came to lean on the lab bench. "Busy?"

"No. Thinking about the briefing. Oh, and I have an appointment with Janet."

"Full physical?"

"Yup."

The Colonel picked up one of her pencils and examined it, before tapping it restlessly on a stack of papers. "Damn, that means mine's coming up."

Sam simply smiled at him. And studied him. She had a hunch that the 'difference' she felt was mostly to do with him. With the air that they'd cleared and the decisions they'd made. 

In fact, she was sure of it.

"If we survive the briefing, you want to have lunch? Or maybe cake at some point?" he asked, not looking at her, but at the tip of the pencil.

"Sure," she said casually, though she wasn't feeling casual in the least. "That would be wonderful."

"You must have forgotten what commissary food tastes like, Carter," he replied, dryly, glancing down at his watch. "Come on. We can pick up Daniel and Teal'c on the way. Do you think Hammond will be amused by the image of you as an inept waitress?"

"No, sir."

"Hell. I was hoping to distract him with stories of your surprising ineptitude."

She narrowed her eyes and followed him out of her lab. "I wasn't that bad."

"Sure you were, Carter. You can't be good at everything." He turned to face her as he walked backwards, and smiled broadly to show that he was teasing. As if she didn't already know.

"Sir..." She came to a halt and looked forwards and backwards down the corridor to make sure they were alone.

Sensing she wanted to talk more privately, he came back to her and loosely tucked his hands into his pockets. "Carter?"

She lowered her voice, "Janet mentioned that Dr McKenzie would be giving me a psych evaluation before I can be cleared for 'gate travel and I was wondering..."

The Colonel shifted his head to the right and looked over her shoulder. "You were wondering if that had anything to do with me."

"Yes, sir."

"I might... " He looked down at her, his eyes soft, trying to make sure that she wouldn't be hurt. "I might have suggested to Hammond that maybe it would be a good idea if he made your psych evaluations obligatory."

"Sir?" 

He took her elbow lightly and pulled her over to the side of the hallway where they leaned against the wall, waiting for a couple of SFs to pass. Then he continued, holding her gaze as seriously as he had ever done, "Carter, you know you've gotten out of most of your evaluations. And you know you shouldn't.... we shouldn't have let it slide like that. I shouldn't have let it slide – I was the one who told Hammond you were okay, though I knew you weren't."

"I am okay."

"Oh really?"

She dropped her eyes and focused on his collar. "Okay, maybe I... Are you saying they're going to be regular sessions?"

"At least for a while. You obviously need to... talk to someone. And you know what happens when you and I talk." He grinned helplessly and she found herself grinning right back, and biting her lip in embarrassment. 

"Yeah. I know." She turned until her back was straight up against the side of the hallway. "Was he... was the General suspicious?"

"Hell, yes," he said emphatically, making her laugh. "We're in for a tough briefing. I only hope he'll accept what we tell him as the most we can give." The Colonel put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "You'll do fine. Maybe you'll enjoy the sessions with McKenzie."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Sure."

Colonel O'Neill grunted in sympathy. "Well, you'll be in good company. Me, Danny and Teal'c will be having more regular sessions, too," he complained.

Her eyebrows shot up. "You will?"

He nodded down the corridor and they started walking again. "It was that or having the possibility of Daniel running off to find himself..."

"Sir!"

*

"What about this Daniel Frakes? What does he remember?"

Sam glanced up at the Colonel to see if he'd let her handle this one. When he nodded very slightly, she turned to the General. "Actually, he remembers very little. When the Goa'uld took over, he repressed Frakes consciousness and so all he can remember was just before Mut implanted him with the symbiote and when he woke up in the hospital. He has... a vague impression of 'doing things', as he put it. For instance, he attended a couple of dinner parties with friends but he can't remember actually being there, or talking. He said it was almost as if he was watching himself from the outside."

"And the cover-up?" Hammond prompted.

"Doctor Fraiser told him evidence suggested he was suffering from some form of amnesia – resulting from trauma to the head received in Luxor the night Mut blended him."

"And he believed that?" Hammond said, looking at all four of them disbelievingly. "He was essentially not himself for two weeks, possibly longer."

Daniel winced. "He certainly seemed to. We told him he had collapsed in Luxor and had been brought to the hospital."

"I think he was willing to believe anything, sir," Colonel O'Neill put in. "The impression I got was that he knew something had gone on, something weird, and desperately wanted something normal to explain it." He shrugged. "He's going to be under psychiatric evaluation by our own people so if anything raises its head, we'll be the first to know."

"And what about Mut's host, Ms Vautour?"

"She is dead. The autopsy reported that a trauma to the head combined with a high voltage electric shock was the cause of death," Teal'c stated. 

"A high voltage electric shock?" Hammond questioned, raising his eyebrows and looking at Sam and the Colonel significantly. "That sounds like a zat gun to me."

"Maybourne probably had one, sir," the Colonel said, making a face. "In order to, you know, double cross us."

The General tapped his fingers on the table, eyes narrowed. "I still don't understand how Maybourne got involved."

"Neither do we, sir. Carter was the one who had to deal with him by herself for the first couple of weeks," the Colonel said, grinning at Sam across the table. "But he seemed to have a lot of information, all of it useful. *He* was useful. For once."

"And the symbiotes?"

"There was no trace of them anywhere."

"Which would suggest....?"

The Colonel's pen rolled across the table to his other hand. He picked it up and studied it. "It would suggest that.... Maybourne got them."

"That's what I thought, Colonel."

There was silence in the briefing room while everyone avoided everyone else's eyes.

*

"Blood pressure's a little high."

"It's been a stressful day," Sam explained, trying to catch Janet's eye. 

"Mmm." Janet made a note on the clipboard and nodded at the nurse who had performed the majority of the check-up tasks. "Thank you, Lieutenant. You can go to lunch now."

"Yes, Major." The young woman tidied up her tray and pushed it back up against the wall before giving Sam one more wide, toothy smile and escaping between the curtains.

"So?" Sam queried, trying to get Janet to talk to her. All throughout the check-up, the doctor had been quite the professional – and completely unwilling to engage Sam in any kind of normal conversation. Sam had even asked about Cassie and got an unusually clipped, noncommittal response. "Am I clear?"

"We'll see when I get your blood work returned," Janet said, lowering the clipboard and pulling the curtain back along the rails.

Sam's shoulders slumped. "Janet..."

"Sam, I don't want to talk about it here."

"You weren't remotely pissed off when the Colonel went off and did his undercover mission for the Tollen," Sam snapped in irritation.

Janet gave Sam a dark look. "That was different."

"How was it different?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Later, Sam," Janet said. Her expression softened, seeing Sam's alarm. "We'll talk later. When we're not... here."

Suddenly, Sam saw the light. "Oh." 

Janet sighed wearily. "Yeah."

So Janet was also suspicious. Crap. Sam had a feeling she was going to have to give this particular friend a little more information than was entirely safe, career-wise. 

It sure would be nice to have another woman's opinion, though.

"Why don't you come over for dinner tonight, Sam? Cassie would love to see you and she's going over to stay at a friend's so we can chat without worrying about teenage ears." Janet raised her eyebrows expressively, watching Sam with cool eyes.

"That would be nice, Janet. I haven't had time to stock up at home yet." She rubbed slightly sweaty hands on her pants. "Can I go?"

"That eager to be rid of me?" But it was said with a slight smile.

"The General wants me to drop by McKenzie's office and arrange... appointments or something."

Janet nodded. "That's a good idea. You never know, Sam, you might enjoy it."

"That's what the Colonel said," Sam muttered, sliding down off the bed and rearranging her shirt. "I'm thinking it's unlikely. Daniel's fuming, by the way. He is really not keen on revisiting McKenzie any more than I am."

"He has slightly more reason to be, after the incident with Ma'chello's... bugs." She winced in remembrance, her fingers going to one of her ears. "But McKenzie is a qualified psychiatrist and he's the best we've got."

Sam made a face. "Well... think of me while I'm spilling my guts."

"I'll do that. Have a good day, Sam."

"You too."

Feelingly considerably lighter, Sam left the infirmary. Okay, so she'd get through the sessions with McKenzie. Hell, she'd get through anything in order to keep going through the gate. 

"Major Carter!"

Sam came to a halt and turned around. "Hey, Siler, how are you?"

The serious-looking man smiled at her slightly. "I'm good. It's great to have you back. I, ah, have something I need to go over with you. We're having a slight issue with the iris."

She frowned. The General hadn't mentioned anything in the briefing. "Oh? What kind of... Tell you what, drop by my lab this afternoon. I've got an appointment to keep right now."

He nodded. "Certainly, Major. Thank you."

"That's okay. Three o'clock? It's not serious, is it?"

"Oh no. Not at all." He smiled at her and it was probably the most she had ever seen him smile before. "It really is great to have you back," he said, genuinely.

"Er, thanks, Siler. I'm glad to be back."

*

It looked like McKenzie's secretary had gone for lunch already, which wasn't surprising since it was already half past one. Sam hung around in the office for a little while, reading some of the posters on the walls, while really wishing she could be going to collect the Colonel for their lunch/cake date.

Not that was it a date, of course.

Just, you know, an appointment. To eat. Together.

Oh, never mind.

"Can I help you?"

A woman walked into the room and dropped a bundle of files on the secretary's desk, looking at Sam with wide green eyes. She didn't look familiar – but that wasn't really surprising. Sam didn't recognize everyone on base and it wasn't as if she spent a lot of time on this particular floor.

"Yeah, I want to make an appointment with Dr McKenzie."

"Oh... oh... okay. Wait a second." The woman scurried around the desk and began to open and close drawers, obviously searching for something.

Frowning a little, Sam watched her. Maybe she was new, she thought. 

She pulled a thick blue book from one of the drawers and opened it. "Oh, I'll bet..." She grinned at Sam warmly and reached over to turn on the computer. "Sorry. Um, I don't usually... I'm Dr Williams, actually." She held out her hand to Sam.

Automatically accepting the hand to shake, Sam's eyebrows rose. "Dr Williams?"

"I've just joined the SGC. I'm to share the workload with Dr McKenzie."

Sam blinked. "Oh. I didn't know that."

The computer had clearly loaded completely and Dr Williams' attention was drawn to the screen. "Ah. Here we go." She clicked on something and poised her fingers over the keys. "What time would be convenient for you?"

"Well, you see, that's the thing. I need to have a session with him to clear me for gate travel so... as soon as possible."

"Right." Her eyes ran swiftly over the screen. "It looks like he has a slot tomorrow. Name?"

"Major Samantha Carter."

Dr Williams' fingers paused dramatically over the keyboard and she looked up again, eyes narrowed. "Major Carter?" She stood up straight and plucked one of the files she'd brought in from the top of the desk and flicked it open, looking at the front page and glancing back up at Sam. "SG-1?

"That's me."

The smile came back. "In that case, it's really nice to meet you. I'll be taking over from Dr McKenzie for your sessions."

"Really?" Sam couldn't hide her grin. No McKenzie? The day suddenly seemed a whole lot brighter. "Wow. That's... great."

"I'm glad you think so. I was concerned that people might not appreciate swapping doctors."

"I don't think it's going to be a problem, Dr Williams," Sam said, trying to keep her tone light.

"I hope not. Anyway, I could probably..." She lifted her eyebrows hopefully. "I don't suppose you want to have a session now?"

"You're free?"

"Well..." She laughed and the corners of her eyes crinkled. "I only started yesterday and all day all I had was the whole... 'welcome to Cheyenne Mountain, here you will find aliens, alien technology and top secret stuff that will blow your mind' talk. So I was a little overwhelmed."

"You seen to have recovered quickly," Sam said dryly.

"The CMO – Dr Fraiser? – she's been a great help. Plus, the number of cute... ah," Dr Williams trailed off, grinning slyly. "Never mind." She cleared her throat and brushed down her uniform briskly. "What do you say? Want to start now?"

Sam grinned. "Sure."

*

It was very late by the time Sam got back from Janet's, and three hours of an intense after-dinner conversation over a bottle of red wine had left her feeling exhausted enough to take a cab back to her house.

In the end, Sam had told her everything. Everything from the moment she'd realized she wanted to be inappropriately involved with her CO right up until that morning when she'd called him first thing to confirm what color they were going to wear to work. It was more than she'd told the Colonel, more than she'd told Daniel, certainly more than she'd told the new shrink. She'd certainly done a lot of opening up that day, which no doubt added to her tiredness.

All she wanted to do was go to bed.

She paid the cab driver who – thank goodness – was the quiet and efficient type who hadn't engaged her in inane conversation on the way over and stumbled out of the car. Checking her watch she wondered if it was too late to call the Colonel – then she decided he wouldn't be asleep anyway. Plus, he had made her promise to call him before she went to bed since they'd missed lunch together that day and conversation over cake had been disappointingly cut short when Daniel dropped by to talk to them. She hoped this constant communication thing was a tread for the future.

She pulled her keys out of her bag and fitted them into the lock, just imagining how *good* it would feel to crawl into her lovely queen sized bed and drift off....

"Major."

Her head connected with the door. 

Three times.

"You aren't here. You are a figment of my imagination," she muttered against the woodwork.

"I'm afraid not, Major."

"Please leave me alone."

He chuckled and she could hear him stepping up the steps towards her. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"There is no way in hell you're coming inside my house."

"You're being surprisingly ungrateful, Major Carter," Maybourne said disapprovingly, coming to lean against her door and look at her. 

"You double crossed us, Maybourne," she said angrily, turning her head to glare at him.

He snorted. "Like you weren't going to double cross me?"

Sam decided it would probably be best if she turned back to the door. "Go away, Maybourne."

He sighed. "You're making my good deed very difficult, Major."

She knew she should ignore him. She knew she should open her door and slam it in his face but... "Good deed?"

"I just thought I might offer you a small piece of advice."

"You? Offer me advice?"

"May I remind you, Major, that I was the one who got you out of the mess you had got yourself into in the first place?"

She put the fact that she couldn't come up with a suitable response down to the hour and the bottle of wine she and Janet had shared. "If you tell me the advice, will you leave directly afterwards?"

"Sure thing."

"Go on then."

"Your experience with Jolinar, the naquadah it left in your system, is a source of great interest to NID and in some of the shadier regions of the Pentagon."

Did it just get cold? Sam wondered, lifting her head from her door. Suddenly, her skin was covered in goose-bumps. "Is that a threat, Maybourne?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I like you, Major, and I don't want to see you hurt. Take care of yourself. And watch your back."

He patted her lightly on the shoulder and then walked off. She glanced over her shoulder, just to make sure he didn't disappear in a puff of smoke, and then she looked back at her door. 

Watch your back.

Damn, but she hated clichés.

Sam opened her door and then locked it behind her, sliding across the dead bolt. She hurried into the kitchen and grabbed her phone, her fingers seeking out the first number on her speed dial. 

She went to peer out of her window while the phone rang.

"O'Neill," he said, picking up on the third ring.

Sam grinned automatically at hearing his voice. "Hey, sir, it's me."

"You're back late." She could all but imagine his eyebrows raised. "Good time?"

"Yeah. Girl talk, mostly." 

"Yuck."

Sam laughed. "Very mature, sir." She kicked off her shoes and went to curl up on her couch. "Listen, Maybourne was just at my door..."

  



End file.
